


What Belongs To Me

by Kami_RC



Category: Supernatural
Genre: And it's really shitty case, Angst, Bottom Dean, Castiel and Dean solving the case, Dean POV, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Issues, Hunters & Hunting, M/M, Memory loss (or something like that), Nightmares, Sam inclines to dark side, Sassy Castiel, Season 3-5 spoilers, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 14:08:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 27,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10112375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kami_RC/pseuds/Kami_RC
Summary: Something’s totally wrong with Dean’s life. Call it just nightmares, but no, Dean has stopped searching for the comfort in this excuse long time ago. You don’t dream of things that shouldn’t exist every damn night. And you totally don’t dream of having romantic relationship with your younger brother either.But well, that’s how it is. Dean’s a good man, he works, he visits his parents and if he starts to lose his sense of reality, there’s his psychiatrist to wake him up. It works for him. At least it did. With the monsters in his dreams becoming more and more real and some freaky guy following him through Lawrence, Dean feels like losing his mind. And getting attracted to his little hostile brother doesn’t make him feel any better.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mother_Russia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mother_Russia/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your support through the story, I love you guys. Right now I'm in the middle of editing, at least the first chapters, which were my awkward fanfic beginnings.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story. Kudos and comments mean world to me, so if you spare time to give some feedback, I'll be really happy. Bye!

“Dean! Come on, man, get up.”

Dean wakes up sitting up, startled, a loud growl escaping his lips with a pain accompanying the sudden movement. His head is aching. For a few seconds he’s even on the verge of vomiting. It takes him a while to recognize familiar walls. His bed. His wardrobe. His dirty socks. It calms him down a little.

“Dean!”

“Shut your mouth.” Dean hisses, finally identifying the voice as well.

Right. Lawrence, Kansas. Friday morning. And furious Jedidiah behind the door. If there was any choice, he would stay in bed, buried in sheet, pretending he’s dead. It wouldn’t be such lie. Dying can’t be so different.

“You should have opened the shop an hour ago, you son of a bitch!”

Dean growls again, this time in annoyance. Even without seeing his face he can say Jed is pissed. It’s gonna be a long day.

“Yeah, yeah.”

He’s rubbing his temples, unable to stop pulsing in his head. Well, not only in his head. Dying doesn’t sound so bad once again. And he would even know how to do it, considering the death has been the main topic of his dreams last few months. And to be honest, it’s been more pleasant part. Okay, he’s lying. But if someone is supposed to believe he’s sane, he just can’t admit he wakes up with a fucking hard on every damn day, just because he’s – for some reason – spreading his legs for his younger brother in his dreams. Well, that’s not sane. Not even a little. 

“Seriously, man.” Jed spits the moment Dean opens the door. “It’s fifth time this month.”

Jed is a great guy. Sometimes Dean wants to beat him to death, but he’s a great guy. They have been working together in this mucky car repair shop for almost a year, so they already know what to expect from each other. But to be fair, Jed probably expected something different, letting Dean live in a small flat above the shop. Like actually opening the shop at eight o’clock, when he lives literally at his workplace. 

"Can you dress up?" Jed growls.

"I'm working on it."

Dean can hear frustrated mumbling and well, he should be nicer. But it’s impossible when he still feels blood dripping off his hands. He closes his eyes. There’s no blood. Not really. There never was. There. Never. Was. He needs to repeat it. And he never saw dead body either. But he knows exactly how it smells. He knows the sound of burning bones.

He’s fucking insane.

Jed is pain in the ass for the rest of the day, so it’s a relief to finally get out of there. Dean doesn’t need to walk long, the shining Impala waiting for him right in front of the shop.

“Oh, Baby, missed me?”

At least his car is glad to see him. He smiles, touching the steering wheel, familiar smell of home surrounding him. He tries not to think about the fact that this is the closest he got to a romantic relationship in last six months. He should find a girlfriend. Or at least some one night stand. Maybe his mind would stop serving him these shitty gay dreams. Is it possible the only problem is he’s spending too much time alone? Well, let’s believe that.

It takes only twenty minutes to get to the city centre. Another five to get to the familiar old building. The parking lot is almost empty, most of the people have already left, having better place to spend their Friday night. Yeah, well, that’s why Dean is still single.

He gets out of the car before he can change his mind. He ignores the strange feeling clenching his chest. He’s been coming here for… Jesus, for fifteen years. He should have already got used to it. It’s just… it’s been worse last months, okay? He isn’t coward, he’s just… scared to fall asleep. Great. That sounds really intelligent, well done, Dean.

“Good evening, Dean.”

Dean takes a deep breath. He’s been here thousand times, the pink walls disgusting as ever. Nothing to worry about. It helps him to ease a little.

“Hello.” He says, tired.

Doctor Corrigan welcomes him with her kind eyes. It wakes a warm wave of affection in his chest. She’s changed a lot since the moment he saw her for the first time. He still remembers beautiful determined woman who shook his hand firmly at their first encounter. Dean was only thirteen back then. And since then, not only once she treated him like a freak he was. And even if her hair turned grey and wrinkles covered her face, her eyes never changed.

“Sit down, son. How have you been?”

“Fine.” He answers automatically, sighing when he sees her raised eyebrows. “I mean, it’s been worse lately, but I’m still quite fine. I don’t feel like jumping out of the window or something.”

It isn’t funny, considering he tried it once. But doctor still looks amused.

“What about you? How is Clarence? Is he any better?” he asks friendly.

“Not really. He’s still in hospital, his back is killing him.”

“Well, you told him not to ride a horse in his age.”

“I did.” She smiles. “And you are becoming master in avoiding the topic.”

“I had a lot of practice.” Dean smirks.

“You look exhausted. Anything happened?”

“Nothing. I just…” He sighs. “I haven’t slept well for last few days.”

“Tell me about it.”

If nothing else, Dean has to admit she has comfortable couch. That’s what he’s trying to focus on while talking about his dreams. Because they are not real. Even if they feel like that.

“Nothing new, actually. Still stuck with my brother, still heading to hell.”

“Have you talked to Sam lately? I mean, actually talked?”

“No way.”

Yes, Lenore can be the only person he’s honest with, but he’s still not going to tell her about the freaky incest part of his dreams. Not to mention him jerking off every fucking morning. In the age of twenty eight it’s incredibly embarrassing. As much as his nightmares were damn realistic, the sex part was so freaking intense he almost felt still being touched when he woke up.  On some particular places, to be accurate. Yeah, not only he has realistic incest gay dreams, he’s damn bottom. Seriously. What the hell?

He really should find a girlfriend.

“Why not?”

“We haven’t talked to each other since Christmas, when we were literally forced to spend some happy fluffy time together, because our mum is convinced we can become all lovey dovey after spending one evening a year as a family.”

“We have already talked about this, Dean.”

“Yeah, and I told you many times I’m not talking to him about this.”

“Maybe you should think about it again.”

“Lenore, Sam has been participating in my dream for years. Why are you even –”

“Because you look like a shit, Dean.” She interrupts him in Dean’s tone of voice.

“It’s just... today’s morning was worse.”

He doesn’t look at her. She can see he’s uncomfortable, but he’s little more opened now. After all, she knows how to talk to him after so many years.

“You want some tea?”

“Yeah.” He says quietly. “Thanks.”

She stands up, leaving for a few minutes, longer than necessary, giving him some time, coming back with two cups of tea. Dean still feels awkward, but the atmosphere is little friendlier now.

“I’m listening to you, Dean, you know that.”

“Don’t wanna waste your time.” He mumbles.

“You know you’re always my last patient, Dean. We have plenty of time.”

Dean keeps silent for almost a minute, before he makes himself talk again. “I was dying.”

“You said you’ve been dying in your dreams for almost a year.”

“This was different. You remember Trickster?”

She looks little confused. “I’m not sure. Wait a minute, okay?”

Dean finds it funny he has the longest medical record he has ever seen. With completely stupid supernatural vocabulary on the first page. He didn’t even know some of these things exist. Like, what the hell is wendigo. And then try to explain someone he isn’t insane.

“You mentioned him about a year ago.” She says finally. “Some kind of joker.”

“Sick freak making fun of people suffering, yeah.”

“Did you dream of him again?”

“Not exactly. I mean, it was his doing, but he wasn’t there. I can’t remember much. Just, it was the same day over and over again and I think I was dying every fucking day.”

“Sam was there too?”

“Yeah, he tried to save me. And don’t make that face, oh my god. I know what you’re thinking.”

Lenore raises her eyebrows. “Really?”

“I’m not trying to compensate my shitty relationship with Sam like this.”

“I get it.” She says casually.

Dean sighs, taking his cup of tea. He’s so exhausted. He was almost convinced he can live like that, you know, like never totally fresh and rested. But lately it’s been unbearable. He’s been waking up in horror for almost a year, feeling more tired than when he went to bed. And sometimes he even couldn’t draw a line between reality and his sick nightmares.

“I think I’m going crazy.” He whispers.

“Do you want to tell me more about the dream?”

Dean spends there almost two hours, just sipping tea and talking. Considering some stronger sleeping pills, although he knows it’s useless. These dreams are never going to stop. It’s been happening every damn night since he was four. It’s almost like he’s living different life in his mind. Every single day, well, pieces of every single day, playing in his mind, night by night.

Yeah, he’s driving insane.


	2. Chapter 2

Heading home from Lenore’s office usually gives Dean a few moments of peaceful drive. He even feels sane, getting rid of all the shit that was chasing him. Maybe he should really consider going there more often than twice a week. He never thought talking can really help, not this much. But it felt right.

However, the hell is probably going to freeze over before there will be some peace for Dean Winchester.

He turns on the radio, quietly humming a melody of some shitty pop song. How did Lenore say it? Focus on something else, remind basic facts. Reality. His name is Dean. He lives in Lawrence. He’s car mechanic. He never spent years driving across States. He never hunted. Jesus, he even doesn’t know how to use the gun. Focus on reality.

But it doesn’t change the fact it happened again. It was just a moment, just a few second. Dean tries hard not to look back, eyes glued on the road. He just continues driving, heading home. Previous intentions of stopping in his favourite bar simply dies, buried under the weight of cold blue eyes.

No one can be so lucky to have both long-standing nightmares and some creepy stalker, not even Dean Winchester, right? No, the man isn’t real. Lenore has also said so. Just his stupid mind playing games. Mixing nightmares with real life. Focus on reality.

It’s been already few months since Dean saw him for the first time. At first there was nothing special about the young man, quietly standing in front of the shop, watching Dean. Dean felt little weird, feeling his piercing look, but he just switched to professional mode. Dean’s impressions never mattered, when it came to servicing customers. Stupid smile, being nice, making money. However, the man left before Dean could reach him.

Since then, he saw him few more times, just standing there and watching him all the fucking time. The first time was weird, the second time still could be an accident, but when it happened for the third time, Dean just got pissed. But the only thing he was able to say, was: “Hey!”

Dean still remembers the look the man gave him. It was so intense he froze. Then, he was gone again. And yeah, it was as stupid as it sounds.

Focus on reality.

+++

“Don’t give me that shit, Sam.”

Dean is lying on the bed and yeah, he knows he could be little nicer, because Sam looks as wrecked as Dean feels, but he just had enough. They failed. Again. However, this time it wasn’t just we-totally-screwed-the-case-the-fucking-ghost-is-after-us feeling. People were dying.

“I’m just saying we couldn’t do anything else.”

“We should’ve listened to Ruby.” Dean murmurs and he even can’t believe he really said it.

“No.” Sam expression hardens. “It wouldn’t be right.”

“Nancy died anyway.”

“Jesus, Dean, there is a difference between being killed and being sacrificed!”

Dean doesn’t answer. He knows Sam is just making excuses, because they totally screwed this up. They died. All of them. Dean just can’t believe Henriksen’s gone. He was after them for years. Dean kind of liked him.

“I need a drink.”

The scene blurs. And it’s not alcohol’s fault. Dean’s dreams are never continuous stories. Just uncertain moments, like memories. And feelings. Too many of them. Guilt. Fear. Several more steps closer to hell and what are they doing? Nothing. Just killing people they should be saving.

The scene clears again. Dean finds himself in a worn motel bed, not as drunk as he wanted. He wishes he could drink himself to sleep, but they’re out of money. So he feels only little tipsy and incredibly pitiful. Fuck this.

“Not today.” Dean mutters half asleep, when Sam’s hands caress his naked shoulders. “I’m not in the mood.”

“You’re awfully strained.”

Dean sighs, Sam’s chest pressing against his back. Sam’s so damn stubborn. Well, maybe it’s Dean’s fault for letting him do as he likes last few months, but he just couldn’t tell him “no” – not when there wasn’t much time left. Hearing Sam sobbing in the middle of the night really doesn’t help his resolution. Fuck the fact they’re brothers. Dean would do anything for him. This thought itself is far from healthy brotherly love. And well, Dean can’t say he’s not enjoying it too.

“You’re impossible.” He moans, feeling Sam’s lips against his neck.

Sam’s fingers wander across Dean’s chest and lower, stroking his belly. Dean almost whimpers, Sam’s hand finally reaching his crotch.

“Alive.” Sam whispers to the skin of Dean’s neck, panting. “Still alive.”

Dean would be actually worried, if Sam wasn’t palming his dick. Sam’s been too emotional lately, clinging on remaining pieces of Dean’s being. He’s going to suffer when Dean’s gone. Maybe he should just disappear since he still can walk. Leaving Sam with some happy memories, not with the sight of Dean being torn to pieces by hellhounds.

“Want you.”

Dean holds back a moan, he shouldn’t be so affected by Sam’s words. Though he has built some kink on Sam’s raspy voice.

“What are you waiting for?” He hisses, digging his fingers into Sam’s muscles.

It seems Sam isn’t waiting for anything, because Dean can feel wet fingers on his entrance just a moment later. Gentle pressure, while Sam’s other hand doesn’t stop stroking his cock.

“Come on.” Dean growls.

They got over this phase weeks ago, Dean doesn’t need these soft touches anymore. Yeah, he loves them. He would spend hours just touching Sam. And being touched. But they don’t have time. Ticking of clocks is suffocating. There is no time for being gentle. There’s just hunger. Despair.

This time Dean moans aloud, Sam’s fingers pressing into his body. Sam waits a while, before he starts moving, slowly thrusting his fingers. Dean pants, aroused. He doesn’t know how long it lasts before Sam’s fingers leave his body. He can hear Sam spitting into his hand. And there’s totally unreasonable thought that if he survives, they will have to buy lubricant.

Sam groans, thrusting into Dean’s tensed body.

“Fuck.” Sam whimpers. “I love you so much.”

Dean opens his eyes, surprised. This is not usual for them, not even for let’s-talk-about-our-feelings Sam. Dean raises his hand, slowly stroking Sam’s hair.

“It’s alright.” He whispers, even though it’s not. Nothing is alright. “We’re alright.”

Intense thrust makes him shut up. That’s probably what Sam wanted, because it seems he’s not far from crying. Dean’s slowly losing ability to focus on anything else than Sam moving in his body, fast, almost rough. And so damn sexy.

+++

Dean’s eyes snap open. Quick breaths sound almost like panting to the silence of his cramped bedroom. He has no idea what woke him, but his language isn’t dirty enough to express his current feelings. His heart is beating like crazy.

He rolls in his bed, still feeling touches that have never been there. So awfully aroused, suddenly feeling so empty. He doesn’t think much about it, just sucking his own fingers. He feels so damn stupid. Still, he can’t help moaning, pushing his fingers into his body. He pants to his pillow, gripping his cock with the other hand.

When he tried this for the first time, he had the quickest turn off ever. It felt so damn gross. But after waking in this state so many times he stopped counting, he couldn’t resist to try again. And now he’s complete mess, jerking his hips, trying to get closer to both of his hand. It’s so sick.

It’s doesn’t last long, he was almost on the edge the moment he woke up. He muffles his moans in the pillow, his body arching, cumming hard in his own hand.

Yeah, this is sick.


	3. Chapter 3

Purr of the engine comforts Dean's restless mind. He isn't upset, it would be girly, right? He's pissed. Yeah, he's entirely pissed. Because the empty front seat makes him incredibly anxious. Because no one is supposed to sit there in the first place.

Dean parks his Baby in front of a white house, just staying there for a moment, hands on the wheel. Driving has always made him feel at ease. Well, the problem is Lawrence is small enough to get everywhere in twenty minutes. It's the first time he really thinks about leaving the town, heading anywhere the road leads him. But it feels dangerous. Too similar to the scenes he’s trying to force out of his mind. Although Lenore thinks the exact opposite.

He sighs, getting out of the car, taking a few steps towards the house. He turns the key in the door, smiling as familiar scent hits his nose. _Home._

“Mom?”

“Dean?” Mother’s surprised voice responds from the kitchen.

Actually, he really didn’t plan to come back till the family dinner they’ve always had the last Sunday of month. It’s not that he doesn’t like spending time with his family, it’s rather the opposite – he loves staying in his old room, surrounded by memories and odd pleasant safety. He just doesn’t want his mother to see him like that. The closer he’s to hell in his dreams, the worse he sleeps.

“Ah, darling, you should have called.” Mary appears in the hallway, pulling Dean into gentle hug.

“Sorry, I just… had something to do nearby.” Dean lies, feeling little guilty seeing slight worry in his mother’s eyes.

“No, it’s just -“

“Mary? Do you have some spare t-shirt?” Dean can hear a female voice just a moment before he sees familiar ocean of blonde hair peeking out of the living room. “Dean?”

“Hey Jess.” He grins, seeing large orange spill on her t-shirt. “You look great.”

She rolls her eyes. “Thanks, Mabel insisted on handing me glass of juice.”

“That’s kind of her.” Dean can’t help his amused tone.

“Wardrobe in the bedroom. “ Mary states. “You can borrow anything.”

“Thank you.” Jessica replies with much more polite voice. “Can I also borrow washing machine?”

“Sure.”

Jess goes upstairs, leaving them alone again. But now Dean can recognize voices from the living room he didn’t notice before.

“I didn’t know Sam’s coming.”

“You never want to stop by when he’s here anyway.” Mary explains gently. “Anything happened? You wanna come here later?” She asks, obviously not believing Dean’s vague excuses.

“No.” Dean clears his throat, getting back his composure. “I’d like to stay, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not, honey.” Mary says, her eyes sparkling with joy. Of course she wouldn’t mind having her family together more than once a year.

Dean takes a deep breath. It’s been few month since the last time he saw his brother. To be accurate, he didn’t meet him since they started to fuck in his dreams. It feels awkward. Not exactly, he feels like digging his own grave, lying down, covering with dirt and then digging himself out to repeat it for a few times just to be sure.

Still, he walks into the living room with a perfect bitch face and firm steps, pretending his heart isn’t pounding like crazy. Sam’s kneeling on the floor, probably cleaning orange juice from carpet. So the first look he gives his brother is directed at his ass. Well done, Dean. Well done.

Little blonde girl’s sitting on the couch, unusually silent and calm. It seems Sam’s sacrificed his smartphone for a moment of peace.

“Uncle Dean!” She exclaims the moment he steps into the room.

Dean doesn’t even try to suppress his smile. Brothers may not get along, but Mabel spent enough summers at grandma’s house to totally fall in love with her super cool uncle who let her drive a car – or at least pretend he’s letting her – and drink beer – alcohol-free but she doesn’t have to know everything. Sam almost killed him when his little princess came from holiday dirty and able to name every single tool in her dad’s garage. That was fun.

“Hi, beauty.” Dean offers grin, but steps back when she tries to hug him. “What have I taught you?”

She grins back, bumping fists with Dean. Then she hangs on his t-shirt anyway.

“Whoa there, what are you doing growing so much? I bet you were this high when I saw you last time.”

She laughs aloud when Dean tries to push her back into the floor, completely messing her hairstyle. Jess is going to beat him. Great.

“Dean.” Sam greets from the floor not as enthusiastic as his daughter.

“Hey Sammy.”

Oh fuck. Well, never mind. He ignores Sam’s widened eyes, pretending to be too busy with four-year-old climbing him as a tree. He really should spend more time in reality.

“It’s Sam.” His brother mumbles, unexpectedly embarrassed.

Dean’s not surprised, he hasn’t used this nickname – being awake – since Sam was… five? Yeah, since that accident that caused this shitty relationship. Dean shakes his head, chasing away unpleasant memories.

“Let go, bugbear, I’m gonna check if grandma needs some help in the kitchen.” Dean grins the moment he hears Jess coming back. “Grab dad’s phone till he doesn’t watch.”

He slips out of the living room, hearing “God, what happened to your hair?!” before he heads to the kitchen.

“Need a hand?”

Mary smiles. “I’m almost done.”

Dean nods, sitting at the table. “Dad’s at work?”

“He’s coming back at six.”

Dean smiles. “Hard life of the cop’s wife.”

Mary laughs. She doesn’t even ask, making two cups of tea. Dean wonders if he looks worse than he thought, because his mom is unusually gentle. It’s not that she’s not usually gentle, but since he came, she’s been looking at him like she’s going to wrap a blanket around his shoulders and press teddy bear into his arms.

“I’ve been thinking lately.” He says when his mom sits next to him. “I’ve been working a lot, saving money.” He’s been working almost nonstop to avoid sneaky thoughts and sleep. “I think I need some rest. I could travel a little.”

“You have some plans?”

“Not exactly. I could just drive a little, check some famous places, you know, little sightseeing and other things.”

His mother frowns. “What happened, Dean?”

Dean sighs. “Nothing new, actually. Just… Lenore thinks it could help.” Even coming here was her idea. “And she said I should buy a dog.”

He called her this morning, about an hour after his wild waking up. He felt like shit for calling her on Saturday morning, although she told him to call whenever he needs. It’s just… about his probably nonexistent stalker again. Because when he was about to do some work in the shop, he saw him again, standing in front of the gates. And honestly, it freaked Dean out. He’s used to it, okay? He’s used to his delusions haunting him, but… he usually gets more time. Seeing him coming back from Lenore and next morning again was little too much for his tired mind.

She was kind as ever. She told him to talk to his mom, go to the place where he feels safe. And then he could… He doesn’t even believe she really said it. He could stop fighting that. Just get in the car and drive. And yeah, buy a dog, if he feels lonely with the empty front seat. Letting some furry poop-making factory to Impala.

“I think it’s great idea.” Mary smiles. “You spend too much time with your head under the car hood.”

“Mom.” Dean whines. “Not again.”

Mary laughs. “No marriage talking, I got it. I’m just saying you’re not gonna stay young forever.”

“Sorry for interrupting.” Jess appears at the door. “Just Dean’s friend is still waiting at the car, you should tell him to come in, if you’re staying for lunch.”

“You brought someone with you?” Mary asks. “Why didn’t you let him in?”

Dean freezes, almost killing himself trying to get to the window. He’s there. In his stupid coat, piercing the door with his cold blue gaze.

“You saw him?” Dean asks quietly.

“Yeah.” Jess answers, giving confused look to Mary, who just shakes her head with a smile. Too used to Dean freaking out.

Dean clenches his teeth. He followed him here. And Jess saw him. Great. If he’s real, it will be easier.

Yeah, let’s see if he feels better after punching his hallucination to its face.


	4. Chapter 4

“Hey!” Dean flings the door open. The man obviously didn’t expect something like that, because it’s the first time Dean can see some emotion on his face – it’s a pure surprise. “What’s your problem?!”

This time Dean is prepared for intensity of his look, so his expression doesn’t change, still pissed as fuck. All his fear and fatigue transformed into rage.

“Don’t dare to leave again, you sick shorty.” Dean hisses the moment the man moves.

“Impolite as ever.” The man speaks for the first time. His tone is flat, almost bored.

“Who the hell are you?!”

“Castiel.” The man answers with the same tone.

“Is this some kind of sick joke? Do you think it’s funny?” Dean roars.

“So I guess you don’t remember me. Right, there are still a few months left.”

“I don’t know, if you’re mistaking me for someone, but –”

“I’m not mistaken, Dean.”

Dean freezes, fangs of fear slowly ripping his skin. It felt alright, when he thought it was just his brain playing games. Insane, but alright. However, now it’s frightening. The man is real. And he obviously knows Dean. He knows his name. He knows where Dean works. He knows where Dean’s parents live.

“What do you want?” Dean growls without previous resolution.

“Let’s talk, Dean.” The man sighs. “But not here, it’s not safe.”

Dean laughs and it’s bitter, hostile laugh. “Fuck you.”

“Dean, wait.” Castiel says, when Dean’s eyes fly to the door, obviously thinking about bolting. Although Dean tries hard to show no emotions, it’s clearly visible he’s freaking. “We really need to talk.”

“Yeah?” Dean spits. “That’s why you’ve been following me for _months_. Because you wanted to _talk._ You’re insane.”

“I was waiting for you to remember me. I didn’t expect you to reach me before it happens.”

“We’ve never met, you freak, there’s no way I could remember you.”

“But you will.” The man answers, calm. “Actually, in four months, I guess.”

“Are you even listening to yourself? Jeez, and I thought I was crazy. Thanks man, you’re complimenting me, it seems it could be worse. But I’m leaving. You’d better not come near me again. I don’t know how you know my name, but… just stop this, okay? You look like decent man, so just stop following people around and find the doctor.”

Dean manages two steps towards the door, before Castiel’s words stop him again.

“I could help you, Dean. I know the dreams are chasing you. And I know you’re scared of what’s coming. You’ve always been. Scared of the hell.”

Dean freezes one more time, looking back with stone cold eyes. He’s so pissed and frightened at the same time it’s almost paralyzing. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, swallowing the lump in his throat. The man got his medical report. He needs to have serious talk with Lenore.

“If I ever see you again.” He rasps. “I am calling the cops.”

With these words, he stomps back to the house, slamming the door. Heavy breathing resonates with silence of the hall. If he knew the man wasn’t just some product of his sick mind, he would call police months ago. Fuck. _Fuck_. Lenore’s been always careful. And discreet. There’s no way she would accidently slip some of his personal information.

He leans against the wall. _Fuck_. What the hell was that. He’s fighting the urge to start the car and disappear, as far as he can. And at the same time the urge to catch up with the man and… and what? Beg him to get some explanation? Of what? The man is probably more insane than him. _Fuck_.

He can hear his mother’s voice from the next room. He has to calm don’t. He doesn’t want to upset her. He takes the deep breath. It’s alright. He knows how to deal with that. He’s been in worse situations. He just has to breathe and calm down.

“Daddy, I’m hungry.” Mabel whines the moment Dean enters the living room.

“The lunch is almost done, darling.” Mary says.

“But I want chocolate.” She pouts.

“I think there’s some in the kitchen.” Sam smiles at her.

“Not before the lunch.” Jess steps in.

“Dean.” Mary’s the first one to notice him. “Where’s your friend?”

“He’s not my friend.” Dean growls, sitting on the couch, still feeling little shaken.

“But why was he –”

“Don’t mind him. I don’t even know him, I think he’s also one of Lenore patients.” He lies, but the moment he says that, he realizes it even makes sense. It would explain how he got his medical report and… well, whole insanity of this situation. Although it’s not exactly comforting realization. “He’s just a freak.”

“You’re the one to talk.” Sam mutters.

“Shut up, _Sammy_.” Dean spits, getting how annoying his tone is. And that’s a purpose, he needs his former slip turns into his typical mockery.

“It’s Sam.” His brother growls, no sign of his previous embarrassment.

“Daddy!” Mabel whines again.

“It’s dad.” Dean corrects sarcastically.

“Dean, would you help me to serve lunch?” Mary interrupts them and Dean is quite grateful for that.

He feels torn between his expectation and reality. For a moment, Sam’s spiteful voice spread through his body like poison. It even overshadows the conversation with his stalker. He’s such a mess. Did he really expect Sam to act like the one he dreams about? He was an idiot for forgetting how fucked his family really is. He was and idiot for wanting to see him. He was an idiot for expecting Sam feeling the same. He was an idiot for coming here.

“Sure.”

Dean follows her without giving his brother another glance. He’s not supposed to care.

“Are you alright?” Mary asks, getting plates from the cupboard.

“Yeah, everything fine.” Dean mumbles.

“Dean.” Mary sighs. “Who was that man?”

And at that moment, at that single moment, there’s something in her eyes. Dean knows this expression. He knows it from his dreams. Eyes of alarmed hunter. He’s so used to this feeling he almost tries to reach his gun. If he had some.

He shakes his head, chasing these thoughts away.

“I told you I don’t know him.”

Mary stares at him for a few seconds, before she looks away, smiling as she usually do.

“Great. Can you get spoons?”

“Sure.”

Well done, now he’s paranoid even about his own mom. Maybe he really should obey Lenore and get out of the town. Get away from that sick shorty and Sam, who… who’s not his Sammy. Get away from everything.

Yeah, he’s an idiot.


	5. Chapter 5

“Okay, let’s make a deal. I’m gonna stop every two hours and you’ll try to avoid any creepy accident. And… Damn, Sam, stop chewing my jacket.”

He can’t believe Lenore really convinced him to get a dog. Well, she just mentioned it the day Dean went to see his mother. But still, it’s her fault.

It took him about three weeks to get out of Lawrence. However, it was faster than he expected, considering Jed had to find some replacement, because one person couldn’t handle the shop themselves. Dean even had to move out of his place, which almost made him change his mind. Almost. He’s not really sure how he ended up in Impala with this furry whining thing. Still a puppy, more than half a year old. Completely clumsy with its too big paws, but smart enough not to wet the seat.  Yeah, it’s exactly like Sam.

He’s been driving for almost 5 hours by now, the sky is slowly getting dark. He resists checking the map again, he’s really not used to being… spontaneous. But he decided not to give a fuck, getting in his Baby, heading west, surrounded by nothing but fields. It’s been terribly comforting.

He winds down the window, not bothering to turn the music down. He even bought new tapes, giving up and completely fusing with _the_ _other him_.  Honestly, he can appreciate the irony of Highway to Hell roaring from the speakers, considering he’s out of the time. Hitting I-70, heading right to his worst nightmares.

He almost misses the phone ringing, finally turning down the music and picking up.

“Hey.” He calls almost cheerfully.

Lenore’s voice is as calm and polite as ever, greeting him, asking how he’s feeling and where he is. Dean’s grateful for her concern, although it’s little exaggerated. He’s fine. Who cares he’s going to die tonight. They are just dreams, right? Yeah, he’s fine.

“Don’t overdo it, Dean. Stop when you’re tired.”

“Yes, mom.” Dean rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry. We just spent almost an hour in the field, because that stupid dog decided he doesn’t want to sit still anymore. I almost killed him.”

“Yeah, I can hear how much you hate him.” She answers with a pure sarcasm in her voice.

“He’s manipulative bitch with his big puppy eyes.” Exactly like Sam. “And – damn, Sam, stay there, I’m driving.”

“You named him Sam?” Lenore asks, while he’s trying his best to get Sam out of his lap.

Dean cleans his throat. “No, it’s Samantha.”

“You named _him_ Samantha?”

“Yeah, Lenore, it’s 21st century, let him be whatever he wants.”

Lenore laughs, leaving the topic, making Dean feel grateful again. She asks few more questions, reassuring him they’ll call instead of their meeting. It’s clear she’s reluctant to leave him alone, pretty aware of what Dean’s going through tonight.

“Call me, if you need anything, alright? Even in the middle of the night. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Dean rolls his eyes one more time. “I’m not a kid, Lenore. I’m not gonna call you at 4 AM because of bad dreams. And I should go. We’re close to Kanorado, I think we won’t hit borders until tomorrow. I’ll also have to find some pet friendly motel, because there’s no way I’m letting Sa… son of the bitch alone in Impala during the night.”

“Sure. Take care and call me, alright?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Both of them know he’s lying. He’s not calling her in the middle of the night. He’s been mentally preparing himself for a few months. He can do this. Alone.

It doesn’t take as much time as he expected. In another hour, he’s entering totally awful motel room. Handle almost brakes off, when he tries to open the door. And he really doesn’t want to know the origin of stains on the wall. It’s the eleventh time since morning he’s wondering what the hell he’s doing. Again, he tries to ignore how relaxed he’s feeling when his back hits worn and musty sheets. And he’s lucky to find almost deserted motel just a few miles behind the town, considering he’s sure he’s going to scream at night.

“Ow, Sam, Jesus, it’s me down there.” Dean growls, Sam jumping on the bed, landing right on Dean’s stomach. “Jerk.”

Dean pets his head, closing his eyes. He’s tired, suddenly feeling need to get a huge cup of strong coffee, despite the late hour. Well, he’s not afraid to fall asleep, of course he’s not. But he also isn’t greedy to do it sooner than necessary. However, he feels great. It’s somehow calmer and safer, being 400 miles from… everything. Dean hasn’t seen that man – Cas-omething – since the day Dean told him to piss off, but he still feels better being as far as he can. It’s gonna be alright. He’ll just suffer through the night and tomorrow drive across Colorado. Maybe when he reaches western coast, he could slow down and stay somewhere for a few days.

“Sam, seriously, I don’t mind you chewing my jacket, but don’t fucking do it when I’m wearing it.”

Sammy cheerfully snatches at Dean’s sleeve, when the human tries to get away. Dean pins him against mattress with one single move, grinning. If it was this easy with human Sam.

 “Come on, Sammy. Let’s grab some food.”

He knows they won’t go far, he’d rather stay behind locked door. It doesn’t feel safe outside, it didn’t even at the moment they arrived, because it was dark and he felt like being watched. So in short, it’s usual evening for Dean Winchester.

He just had to say it. It felt right to say it. It felt right to be able to say it.

As expected, they’re back in the room in fifteen minutes, just with can of dog food and bottle of jack. Any plans of dinner or coffee disappeared with a loop strangling Dean’s stomach.

He falls asleep around midnight, drunk and pitiful.

+++

They tracked Lilith to Indiana. Everything is totally messed up. Hellhounds almost breathing down his neck, his brain slowly converting into fucking hallucination factory, Bobby willing to die for him and Sam still believing they can save him somehow. He should have left. Die in dirty motel room, not risking everyone’s life once again.

“Hey Dean.” Sam’s quiet voice disturbs silence in the car.

“Yeah?”

Maybe he sounds too cold, but he knows exactly what is coming. And he’s not prepared for that.

“You know, if this doesn’t… If this doesn’t go the way we want, I want you to know, that –“

“No, no, no.” Dean interrupts him with forcibly calm tone.

“No - what?”

“You’re not gonna bust out this misty goodbye speech, okay?”

Sam looks almost hurt. Dean doesn’t look at him, eyes glued on the road.

“I mean, if this is my last day on Earth, I do not want it to be socially awkward.”

He turns on the radio, talking shit about Bon Jovi, trying to make Sam smile, ending up singing, well, screaming. Sam’s finally laughing, joining Dean. He doesn’t even notices his brother went silent again. Dean doesn’t talk anymore, just driving, literally choking on Sam’s presence. He’s not ready to let him go. Not after this year. He could stand leaving his brother, knowing he’s alive and healthy, but with the relationship they have now… he just couldn’t accept it. He’s scared Sam will do something stupid. Because, honestly, it runs in the family.

The scene changes. Dean’s getting pissed, he can’t believe they are trying to sneak into demon’s den to kill little girl, who’s got nothing to do with that. He has only few hours left. He’d rather spend them drunk. Or lying next to Sam. Talking, like they did a lot this year. He found out so many things he didn’t knew about his brother. There must be some left. He could know some more. Instead of this. Seeing demon’s faces really doesn’t make it easier.

Lilith’s gone. At least he stops Sam from killing the child. Right.

And then there’s Sam breaking, desperately trying to find another way to save him, almost pleading Ruby to help them.

“I’m not going to let you go to hell!”

Sam’s shouting, but Dean can hear he’s almost crying. He heard it so many times.

“Yes, you are.”

Sam’s looking torn between need to beg him to stay and urge to punch him.

“I’m sorry.” Dean sighs. “This is all my fault. I know that. But what you’re doing…” He clenches his teeth, when he can see tears filling Sam’s eyes. “It’s not gonna save me. It’s gonna kill _you_.”

“So what am I supposed to do?”

Sam’s voice is breaking, although he’s trying hard to fight back tears. He looks like a lost child, reminding Dean all those years he’s been taking care of him. He should have valued them more.

“Keep fighting.” Now even Dean can feel tears forming in his eyes. No, it’s too soon. He’s not gonna cry. “Take care of my wheels.” He says, hoping Sam will be amused, but he’s still on the verge of crying. “Remember what dad taught you.” Sam nods. “Remember what I taught you.”

Sam’s tears overflow with the clocks striking midnight. Dean gives him painful smile.

I love you.

He doesn’t manage to say it before Lilith appears and hellhounds tear him apart.

Then, it begins.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean whines, desperately clenching white porcelain edges, sinking head deeper in the toilet while feeling like throwing his bowels up. The worst hangover ever. Seriously. His throat burns, stomach helplessly spasming, eyes watering for nothing. Well, at least he tries to persuade himself this is just a consequence of drinking himself to sleep. Just a few hours ago. He had to check the date several times before finally believing that. It felt like _months_. 

He chokes again before he can finally feel his gag reflex calming down. He relaxes his grip, slowly, carefully, before he let himself fall on the floor, leaning against the wall. He reaches out, flushing the toilet, the sour stink making him feel sick again. Then, he finally rests his forehead against cold porcelain. He’s a mess.

He needs water. And call Lenore. His dreams went definitively insane. His throat burned even before puking the first load, just reassuring him he shouted himself hoarse during the night.

_Blood. Unbearable pain. Squelch of his muscles tearing apart. Begging for mercy. Begging for death._

Dean forces himself to stand up, still sticking to the wall, not really trusting his wobbly knees. One step, two steps, it’s not that bad. He makes it back to the bed, reaching bottle of water on his bedside table. He cannot remember putting it there, but he probably knew he’d need it in the morning.

Except that he doesn’t remember even buying it and he’s sure he was still sober while walking to shop.

He flinches when Sammy cheerfully jumps next to him. Dean fights back strong urge to run away. It’s just Sam. Just a clumsy puppy, always chewing his leather jacket. Just a dog. Nothing to worry about. Dean Winchester can be wrecked but he’s totally not scared of puppies. At least not yet.

“Hey buddy.” Dean forces, chasing the picture of hell hound’s deadly grip away. “Need a walk?”

One look out of the window was enough to make him think if dogs can actually use human toilet. His mind isn’t obviously only one to go insane. Heavy rain drums against windows like it wants to break in.

“Change of plan, what if I just opened the door and you’d go for a walk.” He sighs, petting Sam’s head.

He freezes, shrinking back. His trembling fingers are wet from caressing Sam’s moist fur. The dog finds obviously nothing weird about it, trying to get on Dean’s lap, sinking wet paws into his human’s thighs.

“Who let you out?”

Dog says nothing, just waving his tail. Yeah, exactly like real Sam.

Well, there has to be some logic explanation. Dean probably showered before going to bed, leaving the floor all wet and Sam had nothing better to do than rolling around in dirt. Dogs do that, right?

Dean sighs. Well, Sam doesn’t look he needs urgent walk, so he can wait, before Dean gets his shit together. He feels dead. Exhausted. Stressed. _So fucking frightened_.

He tries hard not to think about his nightmare. Not to think about… what? The fact that this is gonna happen every damn night till the day he commits suicide? Which will take about two weeks. Great.

Thought of death shouldn’t feel so pleasant.

No, he’s not thinking about it. If he did, he would end up screaming again, curling up on the floor.

He brushes his teeth, washes his face. Tries to ingest some crackers he bought at a gas station yesterday. Sam snuggled under Dean’s blanket, only his tail sticking out. It almost makes Dean join him. He’s so damn tired. However, just thinking about falling asleep triggers something close to panic attack.

“Come on, Sammy, I’m not letting you wet the bed.” He yawns. “And I really need some coffee.”

Sam doesn’t move. It seems Dean’s not the only one who’d rather stay in bed. This isn’t just a storm, it’s almost the apocalypse. Sudden lightening is so close and massive that it even blinds him for a few seconds. Deafening thunder follows just a while later.

“Is this the end of the world or what.” He mutters.

“You actually have a point there.”

Dean feels like throwing up again, his heart racing like crazy. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. He’s just hallucinating after unusually traumatic nightmare.

“Breathe, Dean.”

The dark-haired man standing next to his bed sounds almost amused. Dean can feel his own body trembling.

“Who the hell are you?” Dean snarls.

Now the man actually looks amused. “Guess again.”

“I’m calling the police.”

“You’re not.”

Dean’s breathing hard. What the hell?! Did he break in? How long has he been there? For a moment he wishes for his usual stalker with his stupid trench coat and piercing stares. Compared to him, this man is terrifying, although he’s just standing there with amused smile. However, Dean cannot miss there’s something disturbingly similar between those two men.

Dean steps towards the door, considering if he can get to the car before the man catches up with him. He could come back for Sam later. One step. Two steps. Floor hitting his face. What the…?!

“I’m sorry, Dean. I just wanted to make sure we would have time to talk without you freaking out.”

“What have you done to me?” Dean mumbles, his lips feeling numb.

“Don’t worry, just weak sedatives in your water.”

Dean maybe tries to snap some answer, but it comes out like growl, not really controlling his lips anymore. The man comes closer, hunkering down next to him.

“Dean, Dean, Dean. I’m kind of impressed of your skills to deny reality, but it’s not a good time for running around.” He says almost kindly. “This is hard time for everyone, you know? Things really didn’t go how we planned them.”

“I don’t care about you damn business.” Dean forces through numb lips.

“You’re stubborn. And persistent. I like it, guess it runs in the family.” The man says with a trace of smile on his lips. “Which is actually kind of unfortunate for us.”

Dean stares at him, because it’s the only thing he can do. This resembles a scene from his dreams so much it’s not even funny.

“My name is Michael.” The man continues and again, there’s some terrifying aura around him, which even makes Dean to glance down. “And I think we can help each other, Dean. I just need to hear one ‘yes’ from you. And I can make it stop, all those dreams which are haunting you.”

How? Dean doesn’t say anything, stubborn, but it’s written in his eyes.

“I need to use you Dean.” Michael says gently. “I need your body. And not the way you’re thinking right now, don’t look at me like that. I’m angel Dean. I’m sure you heard of me. We need human body to walk on the Earth. This is just cheap replacement, just contemporary vessel. I need you Dean. We can do great things together. And you will finally find the peace. Just say yes.”

Dean’s lips move without sound. Michael leans closer.

“What did you say?”

“Fuck off.” Dean breathes out.

“Oh, come on, Dean. We both know you’re going to say yes in the end. Don’t make me force you. Because, you know, angels are very creative. Your human body is _so fragile_. And you are going to say yes anyway. Because that’s your fate. So don’t hurt yourself, Dean. You suffered enough.”

Dean tries to avoid the hand caressing his hair, but his muscles feel like pudding.  Once again, he tries to persuade himself this isn’t happening. Because he’s not far from heart attack. This can’t be happening. But it feels so fucking real.

“So?” Michael smiles.

Dean can feel it again, paralyzing power around the man, and now he’s sure Michael’s doing it on purpose. Where the hell is Sam? Shouldn’t he at least try to defend him? His eyes wander around room, finding puppy still deep inside his blankets. Just right now he realizes maybe the dog has been hiding since the beginning.

“Dean, don’t make –“ Michael repeats his words, but stops in the middle, eyes widened and there’s anger in black pupils. “No way –“

Dean doesn’t hear the rest of sentence. He doesn’t hear anything. The floor suddenly feels like grass – because _it is_ grass, he realizes. With no idea how it happened, he’s appeared in middle of some wood. And he’s not alone. One look at the man in stupid trench coat makes him feel almost relieved.

Really, this is the first time Dean’s glad to see him.

That’s the last thought before sharp pain cuts through his ribs.


	7. Chapter 7

“So let’s sum it up.” Dean declares sarcastically. He’s been pacing small room of some ramshackle house he mysteriously appeared in front of since the moment he was able to stand up. “The apocalypse started and that bastard wants to use me as his… vessel.”

“Yes, Dean.”

Unlike him, Castiel’s just sitting there, watching him, all calm and friendly, which is pretty disturbing, to be honest. He took advantage of Dean’s numb limbs to have his own little talk.

“ _And_.” Dean continues. “You’re telling me everything I dream of is real and they’re some kind of memories of my previous life where we were best buddies.”

“Not exactly, it’s –“

“ _And_.” Dean doesn’t let him talk. “You _teleported_ me here and the moment I appeared, you… what the hell have you exactly done?”

“It’s a spell so Michael can’t find you. I am sorry, I know it hurt.”

Dean has to stop, looking at him in disbelief. “Why do you sound like you’re _not_ kidding.”

“I am not making fun of you, Dean.”

Dean starts to pace again. What the fuck is wrong with this damn day?

“Okay.” He says 37 steps later. “How do you know all of these?”

“I am the angel of God.” Castiel declares, staring all seriously at Dean.

“Yeah, that makes sense now.”

“Really? I am glad.”

“No, it doesn’t, Cas, have you always been this dense?” Dean whines, finally sitting as well, but as far as he can from Castiel.

Castiel doesn’t talk, probably giving Dean space, or just having no idea what to say to calm Dean down. At least he doesn’t spread that murderous aura, just giving impression of unhinged accountant.

“Okay.” Dean repeats finally. “Let’s pretend I believe you, just because nothing makes sense anymore. And because it’s pretty weird to dream of parallel life every damn night. You know why I have those dreams?”

“I’ve already said they are memories.”

“Yeah, but I think I’d need little more detailed explanation.”

Castiel sighs – the second sign of emotion Dean ever noticed from him.

“I’m not really sure.” He starts. “To be honest, I am in similar situation like you, Dean. The only difference is I can work with my memories. But I am pretty sure you really were hunter, both of you, you and Sam.”

“So is it really some kind of previous life?”

“No, it’s not. It was you, in this time and in this life. I think something erased your past till the time you were four. Then, you started to live your life again, without your mother dying and without you ever becoming hunters.”

“How is it even possible?”

“I have few theories, but it will be easier to discuss them with you when you have your memories back.”

Dean tries hard not to freak out again. Actually, the worst thing is that this is the most logic explanation he’s ever got in his life. That’s sick.

“If it never happened, why do you remember?” He asks after a while.

“I think we have a connection.”

“Cas, jeez, don’t speak like my last girlfriend.” Dean laughs nervously, but then he stops. “Wait, you said I’m getting my memories back?”

“I can get in your head.”

“Okay, now it sounds creepy again.” Dean sighs, closing his eyes. “Why are you telling me all of this anyway? You didn’t have to care at all.”

“I think there’s a reason for both of us remembering. I think God wants us to change that.”

“Amazing.”

“I need your help, Dean.”

“What, do you want to use me as a coat, too?” Dean snaps.

“No, Dean, I need you to remember and then help me to finish my mission.”

Dean opens his eyes, cautious and pissed again. “Okay, tell me one reason why I should let you fuck with my mind or why the hell I should do anything you’re saying.”

“The dreams will stop.”

Dean’s eyes widen. And there’s little victory in Castiel’s expression, because it’s clear Dean would sell his soul for not spending another night in his personal hell.

“However, I have to warn you, they won’t be just dreams anymore, Dean, they will be memories. You will remember living both of your lives, which can be actually too much for human’s brain.” Castiel says, serious. “And it will hurt, a lot. But it will take only minutes, maybe hours, instead of what will feel like decades in your mind.”

“And then what?”

“It’s up to you. If you want to leave, you can. Although I can’t guarantee Michael won’t find you despite the spell.”

“So you’re helping me without demanding anything in return? That sounds pretty suspicious, you know.”

“I hope you will want to help me, having your memories back.”

Dean gives him strange look. “Were we really friends?”

“I’d rather call it agreement on non-aggression.”

Dean chuckles. “Yeah, that sounds like me.” Then he sighs again. “Listen, this is all pretty messed up and I still expect there’s somewhere hidden camera, but to be honest, I’m sort of willing to do anything, if…” He swallows. “If it stops.”

And he’s serious. He even thought about killing himself, when he won’t be able to stay awake anymore. There’s no way he could handle another night.

“Great.” Castiel finally answers after unpleasantly long stare.

“So?” Dean asks, nervous.

“Not here, it’s not safe, I bet Michael’s going after you.” Castiel stands up. “I’m sure he can’t trace my power, in that case, he would have been here immediately. But we still should move to some place which doesn’t reek of magic.”

Dean frowns. “You think he already left the hotel?”

“There’s no way you’re coming back there, Dean.”

“I left my dog and car there.” Dean protests.

“I can send someone to pick them up.”

“I’m not letting your _someone_ drive my Baby.” Dean growls, but stops when he notices weird look Castiel is giving him. “What?”

“You still have that unhealthy relationship with your car.”

“Shut up.”

Dean follows him out, almost amused, but then hesitates for the last few seconds. This is so insane he doesn’t even have words to describe it. What would Lenore tell him? She’d probably finally send him to psychiatric hospital. Honestly, sometimes he’s wondering why she hasn’t already done that.

He takes a deep breath. Well, she was the one who told him to stop fighting that.


	8. Chapter 8

Dean tries to breathe, his chest’s been convulsing for more than ten minutes. It hurts like hell, literally, considering he tries his best not to sink into whirl of pain-soaked memories.

He can hardly remember pale green walls of the motel room. It happened too fast, Castiel touching his temples, throwing him into depth of… of his own mind. Probably. He could afford a few second to wonder why the hell his mind looks like some damn gallery. Before the pictures on the walls started to move. Expand. _Scream_.

Dean tries to run away despite the floor vanishing among all of his memories coming alive. He recognizes these moments. He’s surrounded by his childhood. Parents, school, nightmares. So painful nightmares. His first talk with Lenore. All of his life focused to one damn room, as fucked up as it is.

No. That’s not right. That’s not what he’s here for. Castiel told him. He can send him here, but it has to be Dean who finds what they are looking for. He needs to concentrate.

He moves again, shoving away his prom, getting deeper. Elementary friends he forgot long time ago, chemistry classes, terrible meals at school canteen. He went through them deeper, towards his youngest memories. First days of school. Nursery. Crying under the table, because Grover Whitlock stole his favourite black car. And then, it’s right there. Somewhere among the memories of four-year Dean. Simple white door, almost covered with memory of little Dean chasing their neighbor’s cat.

Dean is sure. This is what he’s here for. The door shouldn’t be here. It doesn’t belong here. Though, he expected something classier. Seriously, he has no idea why the entrance to his subconscious almost looks like a bathroom door.

He finds out the moment he opens them. Because his life was piece of shit. That’s it.

Everything goes crazy within seconds. It feels like explosion. Memories he only barely knows thanks to his nightmares are streaming past him, like they were trying to fling the door open the whole time. Which would explain them leaking. However, Dean doesn’t have much time to think about that. He feels like vomiting, drowning in waves of memories he never experienced. So many new people, so many emotions, so much _noise_.

Dean grabs one of the moments to silent thousands of voices. He appears in a hallway. Another school. Another town. No need to be polite, no need to make friends. Just a few days before dad comes back.

The memory is torn of his hands by a force of unbearable pain. Dean panics. No, not again. He reaches, trying to get another moment, focus on something good. Which is kind of difficult, considering the memories of hell are the loudest, brightest and so damn real –

No. _No way_. He shakes off the chains slowly wrapping around his chest. There must be something stronger. Something to keep him sane.

_Mom making breakfast, quietly humming dad’s favourite songs._

Nauseous smell of burning flesh.

_Nights in Impala, watching stars. Dad driving, watching road with his tired eyes._

Painful screams of sinners.

_His first hunt. Feeling like a hero for knocking one damn ghost._

So much blood.

_Getting sick, having to spend two weeks at Bobby’s. Feeling so useless._

Torturing people.

 _Sammy_.

It feels like a slap. The whirl stops so fast he feels almost dizzy. Dean stands there, memories of his younger brother anchoring him in one place. Raging memories doesn’t calm down, but they don’t assault him anymore, they are passing by like trees along the road.

Dean can’t help smiling, letting memories of his younger brother wrap around him. Jesus. How could he forget this? Amulet Sammy gave him, fireworks, little Sammy sleeping in his bed. This shouldn’t feel so real, considering cold relationship he has with his brother, but somewhere deep inside of him he just _knows_. This is where they both belong.

Dean gasps, strongest memories suffocating him again. Sharp pain, while he’s watching Sam leaving. Even sharper pain, when Sam dies. His heart is breaking, even though he knows it will be alright. Then he soaks into crushing joy, talking to Sam again. He didn’t care about his soul. Unlike Sam.

And then, it started. The first kiss Sam ever gave him, the first which wasn’t just childish peck. Sam broke, finding out they had only a year left.

Dean forgets this isn’t really happening, panting, feeling Sam’s hands all over his body. He sinks deeper into this moment, feeling memories of hell filling his mind. He’ll rather spend time here.

“Dean.” Sam moans, pressing his hard on against Dean’s hips. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Sam.” Dean can hear himself talking. “It’s alright.”

“I’m sorry.” Sam repeats, fighting back tears. “I’m sorry for falling in love with you.”

Dean kisses him again, although it felt pretty weird before. And it still feels weird, but it’s better than hearing Sam’s painful sobs. They fall asleep like that, Sam’s huge arms covering Dean’s body.

Memory ends and Dean quickly grabs another one, escaping screams of tortured souls. He pants, falling right into another moment with Sam.

“Does it hurt?”

Dean moans. He really wants to keep quiet, but wet warmth of Sammy’s mouth surrounding his dick doesn’t give him much time to think. Slick fingers moving in his body feel weird, but since Sam started to hit something Dean really doesn’t want to think about, he can’t help moving his hips in little thrusts.

“It feels good.” Dean assures him involuntarily, because Sam stops what he’s doing to give Dean worried look. “Just don’t stop, jerk.”

He moans again, Sam’s lips closing around his dick. His technique is terrible, but Dean just can’t make himself care. Because it’s Sam. His little Sammy he would literally sell his soul for. The only things he feels watching Sam nibbling his thighs is pleasure and pure adoration.

“Just do it.” Dean rasps.

Sam gives him almost startled look. Dean rolls his eyes.

“Sam, your fingers are moving in my ass and your hard on is almost tearing you underwear. So don’t look at me like that.”

Sam blushes and Dean decides to spare him suffering and draws him closer for a sloppy kiss.

“Dean.” Sam begs.

“I know, babe. I got you.”

Sam pulls away just to take off his underwear before he sneaks back into Dean’s arms. Dean closes his eyes, gritting his teeth, feeling tip of Sam’s cock sinking into his body.

It almost tears Dean out of the memory, but he keeps it, feeling what’s going on in the rest of his mind. If he has to choose between hell and dick in his ass, it’s not very difficult choice.

“Are you alright?” Sam asks with shivering voice. Dean can see he’s doing his best not to move too fast.

“Go on.” Dean smiles.

He hisses, Sam’s hand finding its way back to Dean’s groin. It hurts when Sam moves, but the endless pleasure in his brother’s eyes is enough to keep him almost on the edge. He moans aloud, when Sam finds a better angle. He tries to move his hips against Sam’s thrusts, his whole body shaking.

He’s cumming within minutes. Too high to notice Sam’s crying.

Sam pulls off, jerking himself before he comes as well, collapsing next to his brother. They stay like this for a while, too satisfied to think. Dean lazily nuzzles against Sam’s neck. His younger brother embraces him like there’s no tomorrow. Well, practically there isn’t.

Dean allows himself to close his eyes. He knows the memory will vanish soon. But he still has several moments to enjoy Sam’s love. Because the more his memories fill his mind, the more his realizes how fucked up this actually is. The mixed feelings he had about his brother definitely turned into something so strong it’s almost scary. Sam is never going to look at him with such love in his eyes, not in the life he’s stuck in.

He shouldn’t feel like crying.

He opens his eyes, he wants to look till he can, just one more time. Just one damn look. But the moment he opens his eyes, he’s back in the cheap green motel room. Fuck this.


	9. Chapter 9

“I’m really not happy about this.” Castiel mumbles, staring at the puppy happily sitting on the bed.

It took him a few minutes to make that enthusiastic fluffy thing sit. It seems Michael has left. Actually, Castiel’s wondering the dog is still alive. He still can smell archangel’s anger in the room. It makes him pretty uncomfortable.

“Listen, dog.” Castiel speaks again. “You need to go to the car.”

The dog is obviously not listening, because the only thing he does is rolling over, attacking Dean’s leather jacket, which already has several holes in its sleeves, not interested in the newcomer anymore.

Castiel clears his throat. “Sam.” He tries again involuntarily. “Could you go with me, please?”

No reaction.

“Sam…” He sighs. “How exactly do you talk a dog into collaboration?”

He should have called someone to deal with this. But he doesn’t know who he can trust now. Considering Lucifer is walking on the surface of the Earth again and Michael’s without his vessel, there’s a mess in both heaven and hell. Most of the angels support this situation, because it’s how it should happen. Castiel… doesn’t know. Something deep inside of him protests against this whole thing, he should be in heaven, following Zachariah. He doesn’t even know if he wants to stop the apocalypse or not. But he believes there’s a reason why he remembers Dean’s and also his own previous life. This is his mission. If his father wants him to do this, there’s no reason for him to feel guilty for reassessing his loyalty.

And still, angels were in much better position with Winchester brothers hunting. So he’s still doing it for his family.

“We need to go, Sam.” He says strictly, grabbing sleeve of Dean’s tortured jacket. “Come on.”

Sam doesn’t let go, chewing the leather, playfully following Castiel to the car. At least small victory in this hopeless war.

+++

“Dean?” Castiel calls, closing the door of their motel room. The bed is empty. “Are you here?”

“Yeah.”

Dean’s standing in the bathroom, leaning against the sink. Water is dripping from his chin. He looks terrible. But alive. Another small victory.

“How do you feel?” Castiel asks.

“Like shit.” Dean growls.

His voice is raspy, he was probably screaming. Castiel expected that, whole procedure must have been truly painful. He wouldn’t admit it, but it was the main reason why he decided to get Dean’s car immediately, leaving Dean alone. He didn’t want to hear that.

“I got your car.” Castiel says, putting the keys on a table.

“Good.” Dean answers without enthusiasm Castiel hoped for.

“Do you remember now?” The angel finally asks.

“Yeah.”

Yeah, he remembers. He remembers his mom dying. He remembers his dad dying. He remembers his brother dying. He remembers himself dying. And many other people and monsters dying. To be honest, too much death for one afternoon.  

Not to mention how messy it feels to actually be able to call his parents. Or to know Sam would kick his ass, if he tried to do… well, anything. For example talk to him. Or touch him. If he felt like missing something deep inside his chest before, now it feels like something scraping out his organs. Fuck.

“How much do you remember?”

Dean closes his eyes. “Enough.”

That’s the last word the angel hears, before Dean’s fingers slap the bloody sigil, painted on the wall. Dean’s expression doesn’t change, when the shocked angel disappears in flash of silver light.

“Sorry, Cas.”

And yeah, he remembers what did this to him. And why. And there’s no way he’s hunting it.

He doesn’t wait, he’s not sure how long this will keep the angel away from him. Better to be pretty far away, when Castiel comes back.

Dean grabs the keys and leaves the motel room. The soft smile appears on his lips, seeing his Baby waiting for him. Alive. He was sincerely worried Castiel would try to drive.

“I also remembered I really don’t like dogs.” Dean mumbles, when the puppy almost knocks him down the moment he opens the car door. “Come on, Sammy, stop it.”

The puppy licks his face, happy to see his human again, obviously not caring about his bad mood.

“Okay, okay, I’m also glad to see you.” He sighs. “Get in the car, jerk.”

Hitting the road again, he can finally calm down. At least a little. It is kind of difficult to calm down with a complete mess in your head. He takes a deep breath. He just needs to focus. When he’s concentrated, he has no problem separating his memories from… his memories.

So that’s right, stay focused. He needs a plan. He cannot go home. Both Castiel and Michael would search for him there. And he also cannot fight. Not when the only thing hidden in impala’s trunk is a spare wheel.

And Jesus, he’s hungry.

His phone starts ringing just a few miles later. He freezes, seeing Lenore’s name. She’s one of the people he’s the most confused about. Because there was no Lenore in his previous life. He shouldn’t even know her. But he does.  

“You promised to call me.” She says instead of greeting.

Dean smiles. Screw what he should or shouldn’t remember. He loves her.

“Sorry.”

“How do you feel, son?”

Right, last time they talked was just before his first night in hell. When he thought they were really just dreams. When there were not angels. Why does it feel like it happened ages ago?

“Awesome.”

“Am I supposed to believe that?”

Dean sighs. There’s no way he can say the truth. But well, he feels better, considering the state he was before. He might be little schizophrenic, but better.

“I’m just glad to hear you.” Dean says, tired.

Her voice feels safe. And thanks to sigils on his ribs, he’s hidden from the angels. He just needs to keep moving.


	10. Chapter 10

“Lenore, could you please stop calling me every damn hour?”

Dean is walking down a forlorn street, steps being too loud, soles squelching on the wet pavement. He knows he’s been followed. Just as the whole last week.

“It’s you who sound different, Dean. I think it’d really be better if you came back home.”

“I’m fine.” Dean hisses, turning right. Eyes are quickly scanning many rusty doors, searching for the mark. It must be here. “And I’m not coming back. This was your idea, remember?”

She’s quiet for a while. Dean pushes the door marked with a little pentagram in the corner. Creaking sound echoes through the street. Dean curses, closing the door behind him. Lights stopped working long time ago. But according to shadows of old shelves this used to be some shop. Dean quickly checks the surroundings. Perfect.

“I’m just worried.” Lenore finally says. “I can feel you changed, Dean. And these fast changes aren’t usually good ones. More like suicidal ones.”

Dean closes his eyes. Of course he changed. Even though he tried to remember how he talked to her before all of this, he was helpless. Her Dean was gone. Replaced with this schizophrenic mix of hunter and broken down kid. But he never felt stronger in this body. Never felt steadier. And he could finally sleep.

“Don’t worry, Lenore. I’m not gonna die.”

“Oh really, sweetheart?”

Dean rapidly turns around, facing a blonde girl blocking the exit.

“I’ll call you later.” Dean says, hanging up the phone, despite Lenore still talking.

“Sorry, but you’re not gonna call anyone.” She sighs dramatically, lips curving in a cruel smile.

“What is such a cute girl doing in this part of town alone?” Dean leans against the shelves.

“I’ve already heard you’re the funny one.” She takes a few steps towards him. “And dangerous.”

“Don’t make me blush.”

“Tell me one thing, pretty boy, before I kill you. How could an ape like you get rid of four of our best soldiers?”

Dean gives her a smile. Demon. Great. He was worried for a while, he’s really not prepared to fight with angels. Not right now, not in this part of town. Which was a mistake, he admits that. However, he didn’t expect the attack so soon.

“I’m good.”

“My ass.”

Dean frowns. “I’m a hunter.”

She chuckles. “How come I never heard of you?”

Dean sighs. He will never get used to the world, where demons have no idea who the Winchesters are. Well, let’s fix that.

“Let’s start with some respect, bastard.”

She laughs. “I don’t think you’re in a position to demand anything.”

“It’s quite the opposite. _You_ are not a position to wear that cheeky smile of yours.”

“Why do you think so, sweetheart?”

Dean smiles. “Because you’re done, honey.”

He can see the exact moment it finally hits her. Because her sick smile turns into pure rage.

“No way!” She screams, furious, probably trying to attack Dean.

But she can hardly make three steps towards him, before the devil’s trap painted on the ceiling stops her.

“You couldn’t! We’ve been watching you for days!”

Dean smiles. “I told you I’m good.”

“Wait, don’t –“

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus.”

“Don’t!” She shrieks.

Dean doesn’t mind her, his expression doesn’t change when he finishes the exorcism, watching lifeless body meeting the floor. He leaves.

He gets back to the main street in a few minutes. Yeah, he knows he’s been followed. It was his intention. At first he was even considering changing his mind and coming home. Mom used to be a hunter. She would believe him. She could help him. But when he found out not only angels but also demons are after him, there was no way he could put his family in such danger. And his mom is happy like this. She finally got out of this life. No, he is alone in this mess.

That’s why he started to leave little clues for angels. He wants them to find him. He needs the angel’s blade. He’s seriously fed up with fighting the old way. He needs a weapon. However, the only things that were after him, were demons. He was prepared for that, having a few places like this shop through this damn city. It was actually the easy part, kids would spray anything for you for twenty bucks. He just set the places and gave them pattern. But he can’t continue like this forever.

“I’m home.” He calls, finally reaching the hotel room he’s been staying for last two days.

He’s been changing tactics, fancy hotels in the middle of the city, crappy motels in places where decent people were even afraid to leave the car. It worked. They could find him only when he wanted to be found. Until now.

“Sam?”

The puppy’s nowhere to be seen. But Dean can hear the unhappy whining. Where the hell did he get stuck now?

“I locked him in the bathroom.” The familiar voice says. “He’s friendly, but he tried to eat my coat.”

Dean sighs. “It took you longer than I expected.”

Castiel is standing in the middle of his current living room. Dean quickly checks sigils on the walls. The closest is just four steps from the place he’s standing right now.

“Dean, wait.” Castiel says the moment Dean moves. The human slows down. “We need to talk.”

“I’m not helping you.”

“I guess I got that when you attacked me.” Castiel spits and if it wasn’t Castiel, Dean would swear he heard the sarcasm in his voice. “But you need to know a few things about this reality.”

“Not interested.”

He makes a step towards the sigil. Just a little more. When he said he wanted to be found by angels, he didn’t mean this one. Even though he knew he can’t avoid that.

“It’s about Sam.”

And Dean finally stops.


	11. Chapter 11

“Don’t talk about Sam.”

It hurts like hell. Sam hates him. In every damn possible reality, Sam always leaves him. At least here Sam has Jess. And Mabel. Jesus. He can’t believe Sam actually has a kid. He should be happy for him. Right? Still better than being high on demon’s blood and leaving with that black-eyed bitch.

“Sam needs your help, too, Dean.”

Dean gives him a bitter smile. “You mean he had better life on the road with me? He has family, Cas. He’s happy here. Doesn’t matter I’m not. Even if I wanted to help you, I couldn’t do this to him.”

Dean looks back to the sigil with no real intention to let Castiel disappear again. He just gives it little nostalgic look. Suddenly, he feels tired again.

“He’s Lucifer’s vessel.”

Dean’s eyes widen. “What?!”

“It’s in your bloodline, Dean. Lucifer’s going after him the way Michael does after you.” Castiel continues, finally having Dean’s full attention.

Dean crosses the room, taking his bag out of the wardrobe, starting to throw his belongings into it. It doesn’t take much time, he has almost nothing.

“So does it mean you’re willing to help me?” Castiel asks, when Dean says nothing.

“No, it means I’m going to find Sam and protect him. Here, in this damn place and time.”

“If we went back –”

“He would still be Lucifer’s vessel and the world would still fall apart!” Dean interrupts him impatiently. “Just with the difference my family would be dead and Sam would choose someone else over me!”

Castiel glares at him. “You think Sam lives some kind of happy family life here?”

Dean grits his teeth. “He does.”

“Dean, you have never been naïve. You really think Azazel just gave up because you never became hunters?” Castiel asks and also his voice starts to reek of irritation.

“What are you talking about?”

“You came back to the time you were four. The only difference – your mother didn’t die, silently sleeping in her bed. But Azazel still came to Sammy’s bedroom, Dean. It was settled years ago before you were even born.”

Dean’s blood freezes in his veins as he starts to realize what it means. “So you mean there’s demon blood in Sammy’s vessels anyway?”

Castiel sighs. “I wish it was our only problem.”

“Is it too difficult for you to say something straight?”

“Dean, you need to understand how Sam felt before making decisions. He never knew about ghosts, demons or angels. However, his psychic skills still appeared and they were getting stronger, every year, every single day. No one ever explained Sam what was going on. Everyone left him, even you.”

“I would never –”

“You did, Dean, remembers this life. I’ve been watching you the whole time.” Castiel explains, ignoring Dean’s shocked expression. “He startled you when you were younger. You started avoiding him. You were scared of him.”

Dean clenches his fists. Yeah, he remembers that. Everyone in the family just calls it “the accident”. No one really knows what happened. Well, when he thinks about it now, mom probably knew. But Dean didn’t. All he remembers is playing with Sam in the living room. Sam was four, maybe five, just a little kid. Then he tripped and broke his nose. Dean didn’t know what to do, there was blood everywhere and Sam was screaming. And then, whole room started to shake. The books were falling off the shelves and the more was little Sammy screaming, the worse it was. And Dean ran away. He doesn’t know what happened next, mom probably saved the situation, as ever. But he remembers he refused to talk about it. And he started to avoid Sam. And as the time went, the distance between them was worse and worse. That’s why Sam doesn’t even look him in the eyes today. Because Dean was a coward. And he left the only person he was supposed to protect.

“Is there a point?” He asks, tired.

“The point is, Azazel coming, explaining, taking care of him and making offers was the best thing that ever happened to Sam. At least he thought so.” Castiel explains.

“You mean –”

“He’s on the wrong side of the battlefield.”

“Sam would never betray us.” Dean hisses.

“He had no one to betray, Dean. He just decided. But not with stupid belief he can save the world, not this time.”

“What exactly does that mean?” Dean growls. “He’s cheerfully choking on demon’s blood, using his psychic crap and trying to destroy the world?”

“It’s worse, Dean. It’s not your brother. Not anymore.”

Dean can hear something breaking and he’s not sure, if it’s the wall he hit or his own soul. He doesn’t believe that. He doesn’t want to believe that.

“Dean?”

Dean’s fingers are moving on their own, faster than his brain, finding Sam’s number in his phone. He’s not sure what he’s expecting. He just needs to hear him, although he knows even if it’s still Sam, it’s not _his_ Sam. And he’s not gonna be happy to hear from his big asshole brother. He just needs to know Castiel’s wrong.

But it sends him right to the voicemail.

“Dean.” Castiel tries again.

“Shut up.”

Trembling fingers find another number. The one he tried to avoid so much.

“Dean! I was just wondering how you have been.” The gentle voice answers just a few seconds later. Dean’s heart breaks once again.

“Hey mom.” He tries to say, but his voice is trembling like crazy.

“Oh honey, did something happen?”

Dean takes a deep breath. Technically, he knew she’s okay. Hell, he ate dinner with her not even month ago. But still it feels so unreal.

“Everything’s fine.” He clears his throat. “I just… I just need to talk to Sam, but he’s not answering the phone. Have you heard from him lately?”

“He didn’t tell you? He’s on a business trip and doesn’t have his cell phone.”

Dean freezes. “What?”

“You remember the evening you stopped by?” Of course Dean remembers. It was the first time he talked to Castiel. And he called his brother Sammy. Nice day. “He was here to say goodbye before his leaving.”

Dean grits his teeth. “Did he say when he’s coming back?”

“No.” Mary sighs. “But he said he’d be gone at least for six months.”

The world stops.

“Thanks mom.” Dean says with hollow voice.

“Is really everything alright?” Mary asks, worried.

“Yeah.” Dean tries to smile. “I’m sorry, I need to go. Love you.”

“I love you, too, honey. Take care. And call me when you have more time.”

Dean closes his eyes. “Sure.”

When he hangs up, he looks at Cas. “Alright. Do we have a plan?”

Castiel nods. “At first we have to find what did this to you. I have a few ideas where to start. Actually, I’ve been searching on my own many times, but I think the key is in your memories, because I couldn’t find anything.”

“There is.” Dean says. “I know what did this.”

“What?” Castiel puckers his brow. “How?”

“I was the one who summoned it.”


	12. Chapter 12

“You summoned _what_?!”

Dean’s walking to his car, silently checking if someone is following him. Well, someone except raging angel, who’s been ignored by Dean since their little talk in the motel room. Dean just took his bag, freed Sam and marched to his car.

“Technically I didn’t summon it, alright? At least at first.” He growls, throwing his bag into the trunk.

“I don’t understand.” Castiel answers in the same tone, taking the passenger seat.

“I – wait, don’t just get in my car, don’t you fly?!”

“I don’t expect you to tell me where you are heading, because obviously you don’t know either, and I’d prefer staying with you, after what you did last time. However, I appreciate you don’t call it teleportation anymore.”

Dean just stares at him for a few seconds before he decides to ignore it and start the car. In a few moments of precious silence he tries to think about what the hell they should do now.

“If it’s not perspicuous, I’m still waiting for the explanation.” Castiel declares a few minutes later.

Dean sighs. “I’m not really proud of it, okay? I just happened to hunt it when I was still hunting with dad. I don’t even know what it was, at first I thought it was a demon, but nothing worked. He called himself the Collector, I have never seen something like that. And he saw right through me, I mean, he _knew_ everything that happened to me since my birth. He offered me a deal, saying he just wanted my time, years of my life. Nothing to lose, I can change anything I want in my life, get a second chance, no ulterior motives, living as long as other people, just getting new start."

“And you accepted.”

“Of course not.” Dean huffs. “I tried to kill him. But I just got my ass kicked. He told me to call him if I change my mind and just left. We never heard of him again.”

“Then what happened?”

Dean falls silent for a while, eyes watching the road. They've already left the town. Cas was right earlier, he has no idea where he’s heading. He just needs to move.

“I couldn’t handle that.” He finally says. “I felt so done after coming back from hell. And it wasn’t only about me, Sam was different. I get it, you know? After what we… after I left him for a year… we both were done, nothing was like before. And when Sam ran away with Ruby I just remembered _him_. And suddenly the solution was right there in front of me, nothing to lose, remember? At first I wanted to give up just a few years, save Sam from dying and me from making the deal, from hell. But then I though… what if I changed everything? If our mom didn’t die, dad would never become a hunter, Sam could have a normal life, go to college with our parents actually being happy and proud. I was scared. And I blamed myself for all the people we saved, because I knew what it would mean for them… but damn, we’re not the only hunters in this country, right? Someone else would save them. So I made a deal. Mom didn’t die. And thanks to me, Sam’s life’s been more screwed than ever before.”

Castiel’s just looking at him in silence.

“You know, now you should say something like ‘it’s not that bad’ or I don’t know.” Dean remarks when the silence lasts too long.

“But you were right, Sam’s life is worse than before and it is your fault.” Castiel says with slight confusion.

Dean takes a deep breath. “Alright, let’s stop here. We need a plan.”

“I’ve never heard of the Collector. You said it was a demon?”

“I thought so. But I don’t know. Holy water, devil’s trap, nothing worked.”

“So we need to get something, which we don’t even know what it is, we don’t know how to fight it or how to find it. I’m not very experienced in hunting, but is it always like this?”

“Mostly. It won’t be difficult to find him, I still remember the spell he gave me. It’s how I summoned him earlier. But I really don’t think he’d be excited to see me trying to break the deal. And he’s damn dangerous. We should at least know who we are dealing with before we try something.” Dean continues, more thinking aloud than actually talking to Castiel. “We need a safe place and bunch of information. And I have nothing in my hands, no guns, no books, no journals. Sounds great. Don’t you have any angel friends who would be willing to help us?”

“No, most of them is convinced you should submit to Michael. I can’t trust anyone.”

Dean stares at the road. He feels so damn helpless. Like a kid. He really doesn’t have time to start from zero. He needs help. He remembers some hunters, who would be willing to help him, but the problem is – they don’t remember him. But he could work with that. Explain it somehow. Or just ask for help without any explanation. Which would probably get him holy water in his face or bullet in his head. But right now it’s the best possible way.

“Dean?” Castiel gasps when the car suddenly makes a U-turn and speeds up. “Where are we going?”

“South Dakota.”


	13. Chapter 13

Angels don’t sleep. He and Cas weren’t exactly best buddies before Dean messed… well, the _time_ , so he never learnt much about them. But they don’t sleep. Because Castiel didn’t stop bitching about this “incredibly foolish idea” full eight hours of their way here.

“My head hurts, Cas.” Dean sighs.

Before he can fight back, Castiel’s fingers poke Dean’s forehead.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Thanks, I wouldn’t notice without you.” Dean growls, squinting at Castiel’s fingers. “You can stop it now.”

“I’m just saying it’s too dangerous. We cannot trust anyone. And he doesn’t remember you. How are you going to explain what you hunt? And why you hunt it? And what about me? Angels might not be seen like a threat for most of people, but he’s still a hunter.”

Dean takes a deep breath and leaves the car. He never thought Castiel even _knows_ how speak this much. It’s also probably this timeline’s thing.

“Dean, wait.” Castiel follows him.

Dean can think about a hundred more useful things his deal could give to the angel. For example a halo. Or a harp. Okay, not a harp, it would be probably worse.

He looks around and he doesn’t even try to fight back a content smile. Singer Salvage Yard looks as shabby as ever, but he can’t help feeling at home. He misses so many things in this body. And it feels really weird to miss things he never had. 

“Just let me talk to him.” Dean says before Castiel starts again. “Once I prove I really am a hunter, it will be alright. Bobby helps many of us.”

“But you are not a hunter, Dean. Not here.”

Dean doesn’t answer, heading to Bobby’s door. He’s little surprised there are no dogs, but he really doesn’t care. At least he doesn’t have to worry about Sam. Well, a puppy Sam. He doesn’t even want to think about real Sam.

“Are you alright?” Castiel asks, when Dean suddenly stops.

“I guess I forgot my… spare phone in the car, could you get it for me? I… called some hunters I know, so it’s better to have it with me in case someone… calls.” Dean says slowly. “I’ll check if everything’s alright here. I just… think something doesn’t fit.”

“Sure.”

Castiel starts walking back and Dean finally allows himself to lean against an old car. His knees are trembling, while he’s suppressing a panic attack. This has been the second time since he found out about Sam. He takes a deep breath, gritting his teeth. He might be broken in many ways, but damn he’s not weak. However, thinking about Sam… not being Sam and everything he had to go through. He can’t. He supposes it’s some kind of side effect of mixing his memories. He’s more and more unstable.

Dean clenches his fists, taking another step towards Bobby’s door. He still doesn’t trust his knees. But he needs to move. Standing and thinking about things he fucked up won’t make it better.

Making sure Castiel is still at the car, he takes out his phone.

_Just got into Sioux Falls, gonna stay for a few days._

He’s sure Castiel wouldn’t shut up if he knew Dean reveals their location.  And Dean doesn’t know how to explain how much he trusts Lenore. He knows she’s calmer when she gets these texts. And he also avoids everyday phone calls like this.

Castiel come back, handing him the old phone Dean bought in a pawn shop for a few bucks some days ago. He probably did it because it just felt pretty weird to have only one. Just the old habits. But at least he’s prepared.

“Thanks.”

Castiel nods. “Everything's fine here?”

“Eh, yeah.” Dean answers, even though it takes him a while to remember the excuse he made just to get rid of him for a few minutes.

“Well, let’s do it.”

“Wait.” Dean stops him.

Castiel gives him an annoyed look. “What?”

“I think it’d be better if you let me talk.”

“Why?”

Dean makes a face. “Your social skills are little…”

“Little…?”

“They suck, Cas. Just let me talk to him. I know him.”

With these words he finally bangs on the door.

“Bobby Singer?” He calls.

They wait. Dean notices Castiel’s expression from the corner of his eyes and he has to fight back an amused smile. The angel is actually sulking.

It takes a while before the door slowly opens.

“Yeah?”

Dean freezes, all amusement gone. It is Bobby. He’s sure it’s Bobby. But he looks terrible. Scrawny body, sunken face, dark bags under his eyes. Dean tries to believe it’s the impact of the end of the world, but he knows it’s not. A man needs years of misery to look like this. What the hell happened to Bobby who never met John?

“Are you alright, kid?” Bobby asks, rubbing his nose. “What do you want?”

“Sorry.” Dean stutters, finally finding his words again. He quickly slips back into the role. “My name is Dean Winchester. Are you Bobby Singer? The hunter?”

Bobby frowns. “How do you know?”

“We met some hunters not so long ago… you know Ellen Harvelle? She told us about you, well, and a few others. I’m actually quite new in this and she told me it’s good to stay in touch with other hunters.” Dean tries to sound harmless, maybe little dumb.

Bobby gives them little doubtful look, before he turns his back on them and just waves at them to follow him inside. Dean carefully makes a few steps to the house. He’s actually expecting an attack. It was too easy. But watching Bobby walking towards his kitchen, he realizes his worries are pointless. Bobby can barely walk. He looks more than ten years older than he really is. Broken and damaged.

“Beer?” Bobby offers.

“Sure.” Dean says at the moment Castiel answers: “No.”

“ _Sure_.” Dean repeats, piercing Castiel with a stare. “We don’t want to offend our host, _right_?”

Castiel stares back at him, but he doesn’t argue, silently accepting the beer. Dean is pretty sure there’s a shot of holy water in that. It’d be easier if they just pass the test.

Bobby snorts with laughter, watching Castiel's disgusted expression. But he looks satisfied. He points at the sofa and all three of them sit down.  

“So you’re a hunter, huh?” He asks.

“Yeah.”

“You too?” He looks at Castiel.

Dean sighs. “Kind of.”

Bobby raises his eyebrows. “He doesn’t talk?”

Dean grimaces. “Not much.”

At least for a while, Dean adds in his mind. Despite the situation, he allows himself to enjoy a few moments of silence.

“And this?” Bobby growls, pointing at the puppy in the corner of the room. He’s not obviously very enthusiastic about a dog in his house.

“Hound.” Dean declares, clearing his throat, spotting Sammy licking his private parts. “In training.”

Bobby shakes his head, sipping his beer. “You’re pretty weird trio, you know.”

And you don’t know the weirdest parts, Dean thinks bitterly.

“So?” Bobby says. “What leads you to my door?”

“We need help.” Dean answers carefully. “With a hunt.”

“With a hunt?” Bobby repeats, amused. “No one hunts anymore, kids. The world is ending. You’d better pile up food and toilet paper. And alcohol.”

Dean frowns, trying to ignore waves of pain hearing the defeat in Bobby’s voice.

“But you’re a hunter.”

“I quit, kid.” Bobby says casually. “I’m old, my hands are trembling. I can’t even hold a gun anymore.”

“You’re not that old.” Dean spits, sharp guilt consuming his body. What have I done to you, Bobby?

Bobby actually looks amused. “Thanks, kid. But I stopped.”

“You didn’t. We’re hunters. We just can’t stop.”

Bobby raises his eyebrows once again. “You’re an interesting kid. But I’m not changing my mind. You’re wasting your time here.”

“I told you.” Castiel mumbles, but Dean doesn’t listen to him.

“Please.” He whispers, slowly realizing this is pointless. The man in front of him isn’t a hunter. Not anymore. It is barely a man.

“Sorry, kid.”

Dean takes a deep breath, staring at his feet. He can feel slight touch of the panic again. He was so damn sure Bobby would help him. Which was pretty naïve, thinking about it now.

“You know.” Bobby starts slowly. When Dean looks up, he can see pity in his eyes. “It’s late. I have a spare room, you can stay here for a night, if you have nowhere to go in the town. And you can go hunting tomorrow.”

Dean looks at him. No, this is not his Bobby. He needs to suppress another wave of emotions. He wants back that damn paranoiac old bastard, who would never let a stranger spend a night.

“Sure.”


	14. Chapter 14

Dean growls at the sun shining through a dirty window, chasing away dreamless sleep. The smell of Bobby’s house reminds him home. It’s the only thing that helps him to fill the emptiness he wakes up with every morning since meeting Cas. He wished for dreamless nights for years. Now, when he finally got them, sleeping feels dull. No excitement. Yeah, that’s what he misses. Hunting. Digging graves. Dying. Of course he doesn’t miss waking up with Sam’s touches all over him. Nope. That would be weird.

He makes himself get up, heading to the bathroom without even asking. Sometimes he forgets he’s in a stranger’s house. He needs to hurry up, they have a lot to do. Yesterday’s night they finally made a plan. They need a library. A big one. The capital city is only three hours away, even if they spend the morning here, they will be there in the afternoon. Then, Castiel can start going through books and Dean tries the internet. Dean hopes Bobby won’t mind lending them some books, considering he doesn’t need them anymore. They can manage that together, just him and Castiel. When he is… when he _was_ with Sam, they also didn’t have anyone’s help most of the time. They can finish this shitty case and then he can finally go home.

He tries to believe that just to suppress the disappointment he faced yesterday. And guilt. Such a heavy guilt.

When he finally makes it to the kitchen, Bobby’s already there.

“Morning, son. Coffee?”

“Thanks.” Dean replies, locking all emotions away. He will just hunt. No place for feelings.

He takes an old mug from Bobby’s hands and sits down.

“Where is your friend?”

“No idea.” Dean answers honestly. “Sam is gone as well, they went probably for a walk.”

Thinking about it now, he heard Castiel trying to convince Sam to leave him alone early in the morning. Dean guesses Sam wanted to go and he concluded it’s easier to persuade Castiel than trying to wake Dean up.

Dean sips his coffee in silence. He even wants to start some kind of conversation a few times, but he has no idea what to say.

“Huh, speak of the devil.” Bobby says with a smile.

“Excuse me?” Castiel answers, looking offended again the moment he enters the door.

“He’s really religious.” Dean explains to confused Bobby, while he tries to handle enthusiastic puppy, which is more than happy to see his human conscious again.

“Sorry, I guess.” Bobby answers. “How was your night, boy?”

“Good. Pretending to sleep.”

Bobby really starts to look like he’s reconsidering who he let into his house. Dean just rolls his eyes.

“Cas, can you stop being a dick at least for 12 hours? Even my dog can do that and he drinks water from toilet.”

Bobby scoffs. Whatever he wanted to say never comes with a loud banging on the door.

“I get it.” Bobby says. “If you two are hungry, there are some leftovers in the fridge.”

He heads to the front door, quietly grumbling for himself. No one comes to visit for months and suddenly he doesn’t have a moment of peace. He doesn’t plan to be nice, while opening the door. But when he sees the person behind them, he freezes.

“Eleanor?” Bobby asks after a moment of shock with unnaturally high voice. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d just stopped by.” The woman says, passing by Bobby to his house, looking around. “And it’s not Eleanor anymore, remember?”

“You… what? Wait!” He turns around. “We haven’t seen each other for fifteen years and you just walk into my house without even saying hello?!”

She looks at him, amused. “Hello Bobby.” Then, her eyes find the newcomers, who were attracted by voices. “Hello Dean.”

“Lenore?” Dean almost stutters.  “What are you – wait, you two know each other?”

“Funny.” Lenore says, her eyes wandering between Dean and Bobby. “I have exactly same question.”

Dean has no reason to feel guilty, but he still feels like a kid scolded by his mom. Bobby probably doesn’t notice awkward silence or he just decides to interrupt it.

“I worked with Eleanor on a few cases ages ago.” He explains.

Dean eyes widen. “Wait, you mean – are you a hunter?”

“Retired.” Lenore clarifies, sitting on a sofa without waiting for an invitation. “We both stopped, me and Clarence, a few years before your mother asked me for help.”

 

"Wait, what do you mean?"

“She was worried something possessed you. With Sam… being Sam, she thought it had influence on you, too.”

“So you what?” Dean asks, getting irritated. “You played psychiatrist to get information for her? For more than decade?!”

“I _am_ psychiatrist, Dean. I studied it before I started hunting and decided to continue after I retired.”

Dean sits down as well, probably coping with new information. “So you knew all of this since beginning?”

“Dean, I have no idea what ‘all of this’ mean even now, I was just worried and took an advantage of the fact that you said you’d stay in this town for a few days. I knew there was something different, I just wanted to be sure you’re alright, son.” She says with a gentle voice. “I didn’t expect to find your car here.”

“We’re kind of working on a case.” Dean explains.

Lenore raises her eyebrows. “When did you become a hunter?”

“Wait, kid.” Bobby interrupts them. “Didn’t you tell me you _are_ a hunter?”

“I am.” Dean defends. Lenore gives him a questioning look. “I was. It’s – it’s complicated, okay?”

“It’s not.” Castiel speaks up. “Dean was hunting with his brother, but after coming back from hell he decided to make a deal with some kind of a demon, which reversed a time loop.” He explains, stopping after getting three _what the fuck Cas_ looks. “You’re welcome.”

Dean takes a deep breath and the room falls silent.

“Well, can I be the first to ask what the hell?” Lenore says after a while.

“I’ll explain.” Dean sighs. “Alone.” He points out after seeing Castiel opening his mouth again.

The angel gives him almost insulted look. “You make things unnecessarily complicated and we don’t have time, Dean.”

Dean stares at him. “Cas, what have I taught you?”

“That I shouldn’t appear in your bathroom, when you’re taking a shower.”

Dean opens and closes his mouth without making any sound, trying to ignore a chuckle he got from Lenore.

“Just leave it to me.”


	15. Chapter 15

“This is useless.” Dean growls, irritated.

“You said it exactly seven times and it didn’t help you to find any solution.” Castiel remarks. “It should probably give you a hint there’s no point in repeating that.”

“Shut up, Cas.” Dean slams his laptop shut. “There’s nothing. Can’t we just improvise? We don’t have time for this.”

“No information, no weapon.” Lenore reminds him.

During one single day Bobby’s living room turned into a nerd club. Dean and Lenore with their laptops, Bobby and Castiel going through books. After long time of explaining… well, everything, there was only silence. And then, Lenore just took an action. Bobby tried to protest, he really did. Unlike her, who was with Dean and his dreams since he was thirteen, he’s been still stuck in what-the-fuck phase. Dean can feel Bobby doesn’t believe him. And he doesn’t trust him. He’s doing it for Lenore, because she gave him no choice. If it was only for Dean, Bobby would probably kick him out. Or shoot him. But like this, he’s willing to help. That’s enough. Except that they still have nothing.

“Bobby?” Dean tries with a slight trace of hope.

“No reference to a demon twisting the time.” He gets a reserved response.

He tries not to take it personally. This is not his Bobby. But it still hurts.

“Well, maybe that’s the point.” Castiel speaks up. “If he can twist the time, he can make sure there are no references.”

Dean sighs. Castiel’s right. Logical part of his mind knows he’s right. Or that there is high probability he’s right. But he just cannot admit that. Not to himself, not to anyone else. He takes a deep breath, reopening his laptop.

_It's all the same, only the names will change._

He’s silently reciting lyrics of his favourite songs, just the way he’s done hundred times today. It’s more effective than counting to ten. At least for him. Don’t get him wrong, he never believed in this psychological bullshit. But there’s been something wrong. And he’s getting worried it actually is a side effect of Castiel messing with his mind. His mind is turning into a whirl of panic and chaos.

He tries to concentrate. They really don’t have time. And not just regularly having no time, they have the-world-is-falling-apart-the-archangel-is-after-me-and-Lucifer-is-walking-on-the-Earth no time. No matter how safe and familiar Bobby’s living room seems to be, it’s just an illusion. He’s been attacked by both demons and angels almost every day, before he reunited with Cas. Bobby’s house might have good protection, but it won’t last forever, not even with sigils Castiel added. So they have only hours. A day, if they are lucky.

_Every day it seems we're wasting away._

“I was thinking about it, too.” Lenore sighs. “I mean, it’s not only about this research. I was hunting for decades and never heard of something like that. And think about it, if he’s making deals, he has to talk to people. He can’t be hiding like other creatures. That’s how it spreads. Like crossroad demons, consider how many people know about them. But this? No one heard about him. If he can really make sure there’s nothing about him in books, this is useless.”

“Unfortunately, this is all we have.” Bobby growls. “Unless you have a better idea.”

Lenore frowns, but her eyes find the screen again. No matter how pointless this is, there’s nothing else they can do. She knows that.

“I might actually have one.” Castiel says after a few moments of silence filled only with typing and turning pages.

“What?” Dean looks up.

“I might have an idea.” He says carefully. “But it’s little… harsh.”

Dean gives him a doubtful look. It’s probably the first time he heard the angel hesitating. He already knows the idea is going to be a disaster.

“So?” Bobby asks impatiently.

“We could try to rectify the situation ourselves instead of dealing with the demon. The only thing he did was saving Mary’s life. We could change that.”

Dean stares at him. “Are you implying you want to kill my mom? Are you insane?!”

“Even if we did it.” Lenore interrupts them, before Castiel has a chance to response. “It would change nothing. She was supposed to die many years ago.”

“Angels know how to go back in time.”

Now Dean is actually thinking about hitting him.

“Are you serious? Why didn’t you tell me?” He hisses. “Don’t you think it’s, I don’t know, hell damn important considering the situation?”

“ _Well_ , I’m sorry, Dean.” Castiel stares back at him. “I didn’t have enough time to publish the encyclopedia of angel’s skills, but I’ll start immediately. You can read it between _forcing me vanish_ a telling me to shut up.”

“Guys.” Lenore interrupts them. “We don’t have time for this. Castiel, do you think it could really work?”

“No.” Dean answers instead of him.

“I could go back.” Castiel says, ignoring Dean. “And kill Mary Winchester the night she should have died.”

 _“No.”_ Dean raises his voice.

“Dean, do you realize the whole point of this case is to kill her, right? She has to die.” Castiel says, irritated, but somehow little more gentle.

“Yeah, I know, thank you for reminding me. But I don’t agree, it would only mess things up.”

“It would –“

“It wouldn’t be the same! An angel killing my mom instead of a demon. Really? Can you even imagine where it would lead our father? I need to go _back_. The only chance is breaking the deal.” Dean’s voice is shaking with suppressed emotions. “I need to break the deal.” He repeats quietly, more for himself than for others.

“All right, we are getting out of options.” Bobby says with tired voice. “Do we have anything else?”

“Is there really no one in heaven who would help us with this? Don’t tell me everyone is just excited over the end of the world.” Lenore frowns.

“There might be someone.” Castiel admits unwillingly. “Someone powerful who’s not fully… convinced.”

That catches Dean’s attention. “Who?”

“Gabriel.”

“Who’s Gabriel?”

“The archangel.”

Dean’s eyes widen. “Wait, you mean – no. No way.”

Castiel makes a really frustrated sound. “Why not?”

“You probably haven’t noticed, but we are little overarchangeled here.”

The room sinks into tense silence. Again. An hour passes, maybe more. Dean doesn’t check time, even though it’s shining in the corner of his screen like glowing iron.

“I’ll make something for dinner.” Bobby huffs after finishing another useless book.

No one actually answers, but he’s not even expecting them. He might even feel little relief to finally get out of there. He’s too old for this.

Dean growls at his laptop, helping himself to another beer.

“Anything?” Lenore looks at him.

“I got stuck in Turkic mythology.”

“Did you find out something?”

“Yeah, that google translator really sucks.”

She chuckles. Dean shakes his head.

“But… I guess there’s nothing. I found an article about Öd Tengri, the ruler of time. But I think I’m wasting my time here, I don’t understand a word.”

He closes his eyes, suddenly feeling cold fingers of panic sliding under his skin all over again. He tries to remember the lyrics, but his mind is completely blank.

“You’re all right, son?” Lenore asks quietly.

“Just tired.” Dean lies. He’s not weak. He’s damn not weak. Broken, but not week. He’s just tired. And helpless. And he might also have shattered mind for an angel fucking with his memories. “I just wish we knew someone who would know the answers.”

Castiel’s eyes find Dean’s wrecked face. “Unless you’re planning to have a friendly chat with a demon, stop pitying yourself and try to find something useful.”

Dean opens his mouth. And then he closes it, stunned.

“That could actually work.” He says slowly. Castiel gives him confused look, but Dean is already pacing. “If he’s one of them, demons have to know something.”

“I supposed you’re not gonna just ask them.”

“Capture. Torture. They always talk in the end.”

Dean feels an unexpected wave of energy filling his veins. Yes. This could work.

“You’ll have a chance soon.” Bobby suddenly calls from the kitchen. “They’re here.”


	16. Chapter 16

Everything happens so fast. The walls full of glowing sigils. Quick look out of the windows. No black smoke in sight. At least not yet. Cold panic punches Dean in the face, followed by silent howl of despair. All the fears he’s been running from last few days hit him, his self-control slipping through his fingers.

However, Dean moves. This is all so familiar he almost calls Sam to get salt. He can deal with it, just switching his brain to working mode. In some weird way, realizing the danger is almost calming.

“How long?” Dean asks.

He makes sure white stripes of salt lining the windows and doors are intact, grabbing a bottle of holy water. He’d sell a soul for the demon killing knife. Well, or not, now when he knows what it includes, but we get the point.

“Less than a minute.” Bobby growls, grabbing his shotgun.

Dean gives him a nod. They both know guns are useless, but he knows he’d feel better with something in his hand as well.

“I’m getting you out of here.” Castiel stands up, walking straight to Dean.

“No way.” Dean pulls away. “We’re fighting.”

“Dean.” Castiel stares at him. “You have no idea what’s coming, I can feel the power in the sigils. We’re leaving. Now.”

“And where are we going? We don’t have time and we have nowhere else to go.”

“Dean, this is suicide.” Castiel tries, little helpless.

“We can make it.” Dean hopes his voice doesn’t leak traces of panic he’s still fighting back. He’s not even afraid of what’s coming. He’s just scared, like, generally. Crumbling.  But he can make it. They’re just demons. Just another shitty job. “Take Lenore and Bobby out of here, if they want to.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Bobby huffs. “No demon is crossing my doorstep.”

Whole situation sucks like hell so Dean definitely shouldn’t feel thrilled. But _this_ is Bobby he remembers. _This_ is his family. It feels so calming even the panic in his chest subsides.

“Lenore?” He asks quietly. Castiel’s right, this _is_ suicide. He cannot force her.

“Sounds like fun.” She grins, giving another look to the window. “They are close. Let’s dance, boys.”

“You’re all insane.” Castiel growls.

Dean walks back to his laptop, grabbing a piece of paper he left carefully folded on the table.

“Here.” He hands it to Castiel. “It’s the list of ingredients for the summoning spell. Could you get them?”

“Am I supposed to leave you here alone with a dozen of demons?”

Dean presses the list into Castiel’s hand. “I know you’ll be the first they’ll be after, considering you’re on the other side of apocalypse. We’ll take care of it, don’t come back before I call you. If we’re lucky, we’ll also get some information. And then we can do the spell immediately.”

Castiel doesn’t say a word, just giving him another stare before disappearing in front of Dean’s eyes. Dean sighs. He never thought he’d say that, but he misses the old Castiel, he had… better attitude. And now he really can’t believe he said that.

The walls of the old house shakes with loud roaring and all of them can hear something in the roof breaking.

“Demons are knocking.” Dean remarks, clenching the bottle in hist fist.

“What are they doing?” Lenore asks, frowning.

They jerk with another loud blow. Dean steps back.

“To the living room!” he commands, almost tripping over his own legs, rushing under the huge devil’s trap painted on the ceiling, immediately followed by other two hunters.

They’ve been prepared, of course they’ve been. They knew the danger of staying in Bobby’s house. However now, when Dean has nothing but a bottle of holy water in his hand and the house is shaking with pounding of demons, the bucket of holy water set above the main door looks quite naïve. Dean unconsciously presses a hand against his chest, where he is hiding the angels banishing sigil under his t-shirt, heart pounding under his palm. This is safer than relying on random sigils painted on the walls. Even though he hopes he won’t have to use it. He doesn’t know if he’s more scared of facing Lucifer or… his vessel.

With the last blow everything turns grey with dust for a few moments. Dean coughs, shading his eyes, catching the sight of something car-shaped that broke its way through the wall. Despite burning eyes, he spurts a load of holy water against fast approaching silhouette. The demon roars, slowing down, but there are other three following him to the living room. The hunters just steps back, dust finally settling and revealing four black-eyed men.

It takes just a second before demons realize their mistake, calling something Dean doesn’t catch, too busy with exorcising demons trapped under the devil’s trap. He also hardly notices Bobby calling: “There are more!”, trying to get as fast as his old knees allow him to the wardrobe in the hall.

Dean finishes, feeling slight satisfaction when demons are dragged into the floor with last dreadful screams. His little victory lasts only a few seconds before his back slams something hard. He gasps, trying to move his hands, but the demon’s power literally pins him against the wall. He can hear the ceiling cracking, devil’s trap breaking.

“Take this, bastards!” He hears Bobby yelling, which is almost immediately followed by painful screaming of demons.

Dean notices Bobby holding a water hose before falling of the wall. He starts with Latin even before he gets to stand up, hardly resisting to swear watching one of the demons, which was farthest from the holy shower, leaving the body and disappearing through a window.

Dean’s heart is beating like crazy. He turns around, searching for danger. There is none, at least for a while, but it doesn’t make him feel any less uneasy. All his plans for getting information are forgotten. This is not what they expected.

“Lenore!” He calls, realizing he didn’t see the hunter since the first attack.

He breathes a sigh of relief after hearing muffled “here” from the broken wall. Just right now Dean can fully see the demons _threw_ one of old cars from the salvage yard through the wall.

“It seems they’re gone.” Bobby says, frowning at the window.

“For now.” Lenore comes back to the living room full of lifeless bodies. “One of them escaped. I secured the hole in the wall, but it won’t last long. What are we gonna do?”

“Keep going.” Dean answers, glancing at the bodies. “I’ll check if there is someone alive. Can you fix the devil’s trap on the ceiling?”

Lenore just gives him a nod.

“And I’ll make more holy water.” Bobby decides.

Then, a few things happen almost at the same time. Dean takes a step towards bodies. And then, he can feel it. The wave of energy, reeking of something… impure. Somewhere in the back of his mind he realizes his mistake. Unlike demons, angels are hell damn more discreet while appearing literally out of nowhere.

Bobby is the one who sees him first. He gasps, but he doesn’t let the shock stun him, instinctively spurting what’s left of holy water to the newcomer. It’s the moment Dean reacts as well, turning around. And the whole world freezes.

“Bothersome.”

The voice cuts through Dean’s chest, so familiar, so beloved, so intense, so _Sammy, Sammy, Sammy_. Suddenly all the panic and fear irrationally wash away, feeling whole and little shocked because he didn’t even realized how big part of him was missing.

The small bubble of happiness bursts with a painful scream. At first Dean doesn’t get what’s going on, too stunned and blinded by sudden light. It’s Lenore shrieking what wakes him up. And the world stops again, but this time leaving him cold and with a rusty knife tearing his guts apart. He might be screaming as well, he doesn’t know, choking while watching Bobby disappearing in bright red flames. It takes only seconds, leaving nothing but a piece of black charred _something_ smelling so intense Dean’s sure he’s going to vomit.

At the moment Lenore shuts up with a sound of body slamming against the wall and Dean gives her frightened look. Quick relief washes over him. She’s alive. At least for now.

“Dean Winchester.” Sam says. No, not Sam. It might be his voice, but the cold tone is definitely not his Sam. _Lucifer_. _Lucifer’s_ voice. So he fucking shouldn’t feel shivers.

“Hey, baby brother.” Dean spits sarcastically, not planning to show he’s scared to death.

Good. If he’s gonna die today, he can add to his list of achievements that he amused the devil.

“There’s nothing personal.” Lucifer says nonchalantly, invading Dean’s personal spaces. Dean almost chokes when Sam puts his arms around his shoulders. “But I’m not exactly into a whole fair play thing. I’d rather have Michael in a vessel where he can’t use his full force. We can’t risk that after everything we did to get here, right?”

The sigil on his chest burns as it is cut into skin instead of mere painting. He just needs to put a hand under his t-shirt without Lucifer noticing. Just a few inches.

“So this fuss is all about some crappy family meeting?” Dean asks with his eyebrows raised high. He scratched his stomach, leaving the hand on his hip. Just a little bit more. “Can’t you do this without all this drama?”

Lucifer _grins_ and that face makes blood in his veins freeze.

“Humans.” He sighs dramatically and Dean’s hand stops so close to the sigils he wants to scream in frustration.

But the choking sound leaving his throat is the only thing he’s capable of. He can’t move, his whole body is in pain, like being crushed by invisible wall. Tears of pain filling his eyes blur his vision, but he still can see Lucifer’s expression. Sam’s expression. Dean knows the devil could end it immediately, even though he tries hard not to think about Bobby. But he won’t. Because he’s _enjoying it_. And Dean can’t stop himself from thinking how big part of this expression is _Sam_.

“I’m so sorry, Sammy.” He breathes out, his face twisting in another wave of pain. His lips are so curled he almost can’t talk. But he has to. “I’m sorry.”

“Nice try.” Lucifer comments with no interest.

Dean can feel his head pulsing, everything’s turning grey. This can’t be over, right? They’ve been killing things other people can’t even imagine. They escaped death. He twisted the time just to get a better life for Sam.  He would give him the world. But he only made Sam go through hell and submit to Lucifer. And now he’s just gonna die, no chance to make things right.

“This is all my fault.” He whispers. “You deserve so much better.”

And then, that’s the moment. The moment the pain subsides for a mere second, hesitation in Lucifer’s actions. In his vessel’s actions. But it’s enough for Dean to finally reach the sigil. Different type of pain runs through his chest, but he doesn’t almost feel it after what he went through in last few minutes. Bright light blinds him and then, then Lucifer is gone. Somewhere on the left he can hear Lenore coughing and he allows himself to fall down on the floor, his whole body hurting.

“Castiel.” He says quietly. He knows the angel can hear him. “Get us out of here.”


	17. Chapter 17

“Did you get everything we need?” Dean asks, closing the curtains the moment Castiel bringa them to a motel room Dean doesn’t recognize. But according to the table full of bowls and glasses with seriously suspicious content and sigils on the walls, Castiel’s prepared a safe place for them.

“Sure. What about you?” Castiel frowns, obviously noticing someone is missing.

“No information.” Dean replies, checking the ingredients. “We’re improvising.”

Castiel stares at him. “You can’t be serious.”

Dean takes a deep breath. He just has to do it. Lucifer found him once, he will again. His mind is broken. Bobby’s dead. The only thing which doesn’t allow Dean to sink into sorrow is a fact, that he can change that. He has to change that.

“Dean, wait.” Castiel protests, because Dean doesn’t waste time, preparing to make a spell without his angel’s approval. “We need to talk about it.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Dean sighs. “I’ll just make another deal. Or try to kill him. Whatever. We’ll make it work. We always do.”

“I’m afraid we’re not dealing with a regular demon, Dean.” Castiel continues. “I realized a few things while getting the ingredients. You can always assess a spell according to them.”

Lenore frowns. “What are you talking about?”

“They are typical for old spells. I mean, _really_ old. We’re probably trying to summon something even older than angels.”

Dean stops, looking at the angel. “You know what we’re dealing with?”

Castiel sighs. “Maybe. We were so sticking to the thought of a demon so I didn’t consider it earlier. But I think you were almost right.”

“What?” Dean asks, confused.

“With the Öd Tengri legend.”

It takes Dean a while to remember their hopeless research. Then he finally recalls the terrible article.

“Are you saying we are actually dealing with something from Turkic mythology?” He asks in disbelief.

“That’s not accurate. It’s not about the particular character, it’s about what it represents – the time itself. People had many names for the personification of time. I think the most familiar one in this part of the world is Chronos.”

Lenore just gapes, unable to say a word. Even Dean has little hard time to process the information, which is kind of rare after all the shit he dealt with.

“It would explain a lot.” Castiel continues, when he doesn’t get any answer. “It needs something really powerful to change a time loop. Even more powerful, if something does that regularly. And we cannot obviously fight him.”

“Why not?” Dean frowns.

Castiel gives him a doubtful stare. “Are you seriously asking why we can’t kill the Time?”

“It’s not just about him as a person.” Lenore says quietly. “If he was making deals since the… well, beginning, always rebuilding the present…”

“We can’t risk breaking them.” Castiel nods. “Even if the time wasn’t affected, it’s almost sure the current present wouldn’t exist, including us.”

“All right.” Dean says after a moment of heavy silence. “Let’s summon it.”

“Weren’t you listening? We-“

“We can’t kill him, so there’s no reason to waste time doing another research.” Dean interrupts the angel, annoyed again. He’s not even mad at the angel, he’s just frustrated. He looks at him. “Come on, we don’t have time. And you were the one who said it when we met. We are supposed to change what happened. So let’s just do it.”

Castiel gives him a long look, before silently nodding. Dean quietly sighs in relief. He seriously needs to get over this whole thing. He’s been dealing with this old shit for too long. He needs some new shit.

“All right.” He repeats, coming back to the table. “Let’s hurry before the demons find us again. I don’t need to deal with Lucifer or his little soldiers again. And I swear if I meet Lilith in this reality as well, I’ll seriously think about changing my profession.”

“Lilith?” Castiel raises his eyebrows.

“She wasn’t in this timeline? You’re lucky bastard.” Dean growls. “I guess there are some positives of this reality as well.”

“No, she was here.” Castiel interrupts him. “But she’s dead.”

Dean looks at him. “Why does it sound as if it was matter of course?”

“She was the final seal keeping Lucifer’s cage, Dean. Of course she had to die.”

Dean eyes widen. Castiel gives him a questioning look, but Dean just shakes his head. He’ll have enough time to think about that after actually coming back to the timeline where it’d be relevant to think about Ruby fucking trying to convince Sam that killing Lillith is the best way to stop breaking the seals.

“Let’s do this.” He just says, glancing at Lenore who is sitting on the bed, pale and exhausted. Dean’s voice softens. “You don’t have to be here, Lenore.”

She looks up. “I might be too old to fight the devil, but don’t you dare to leave me out of this.”

Dean shakes his head, his lips curving in a smile. Then his eyes find Castiel next to the table and he nods with a serious expression once again. They can’t postpone that anymore.

Dean takes another paper out of his pocket, the spell he carefully rewrote the moment Castiel helped him to remember.

“Shall I do it?” Castiel asks carefully.

Dean shakes his head. This is his battle. He was the one who messed this up. It’s time to face the consequences. He takes a deep breath, reading the spell aloud.

He finishes, waiting. For a few seconds he even dares to hope it didn’t work.

“Dean Winchester. What a pleasant surprise.”

The tall man appeared out of nowhere, now lazily leaning against the wall, wearing the old leather coat Dean remembers from their first meetings. It looks like it remembers ages and now Dean realizes it probably does.

“The Collector.” Dean manages to say, using the name the man gave him earlier.

“I’m impressed.” The man says, piercing Dean with his ice blue eyes. “Usually I never meet the same person twice. You’re persistent. So what do you want? Up to another deal?”

Dean’s expression hardens. Somewhere in the background he’s aware of the angel and Lenore, but none of them dare to speak.

“I want to annul the previous one.”

The man raises his eyebrows and Dean hardly resists the need to step back. He doesn’t remember being this nervous when they met before. However, before he had no idea who he was dealing with. And the only thing on his mind was Sam. Now… it’s just different.

“You think I am just gonna give up the years you gave me?” The man finally says, amused.

“What do you want for them?” Dean asks. He knew this wouldn’t be cheap. But he had no choice.

The man smirks. “Hm, what do I want for more than twenty years of life?” His smile hardens so fast Dean actually shudders. “More than you have.”

“Try me.” Dean says with a glare.

“You’re pretty ungrateful, don’t you think? I gave you a chance you wanted. And it wasn’t easy, changing so much time was exhausting, reworking every choice every single person made during the period you gave me.”

Dean’s expression doesn’t change. “How many years you want?” Yes, Dean knew this wouldn’t be cheap. And he’s prepared to pay. Even if he was going to live one fucking hour after coming back, it would be enough for making things right again. “I’ll give you everything, just leave me enough for my way back.”

The man actually _laughs_. “I’m worried you don’t understand how this works, Dean. I don’t want your future. I feed on the past. I feed on experience, emotions, knowledge. What would I do with the empty years of your future?”

“So what do you want?!” Dean growls.

The Collector makes a few steps towards Dean. Dean tries hard not to move backwards. “Let me see, what do I want for years you voluntarily offered me? Hm, of course the same amount of time. And also compensation for my hard work. What do I want…” The man stops, giving Dean a cold look. “A life.”

“What?”

“I want the whole existence, since the very beginning.”

“But… that…” Dean stutters.

“No happy ending for him, no second chance. No birth, no death.”

“I can’t do that.” Dean whispers, terrified.

He can’t. If he never existed, God knows where Sam would end. He couldn’t risk it again, not after this.

“I can.”

Dean glares at the angel.  “ _No way._ ”

“Dean, this is not just about you and me. I guess you didn’t forget we have an apocalypse out there.”

“Cas, I wouldn’t get out of hell without you, remember?” Dean tries.

“Angels wanted you. They would just send someone else. Nothing would change.”

“It would!” Dean raises his voice full of frustration. “I don’t know what, but something definitely would without you around.”

“Dean, I’m pleased you’re not willing to kill me, but maybe this is the reason I remember everything. This is my task. I’m supposed to do that.”

Dean grits his teeth. “No.”

“I want this, Dean. For you. For Sam. For everyone.”

The Collector rolls his eyes. “Sorry for interrupting your chick flick moment, guys, but I am not really interested in your dull, emotionless life, little angel.”

The two pairs of eyes find his amused smile. Dean can’t help feeling relieved, but still frustrated as hell. This won’t work. He can’t offer his own life. And he can’t steal it, even if he was willing to do so. This is a deal and it has to be voluntary. _Fuck_.

“What about me?” The soft quiet voice interrupts tense silence.

Dean stomach clenches. “Lenore, don’t-“

“Hush.” The man says and Dean’s voice suddenly disappears. He moves his lips helplessly, but nothing comes out. The man finishes checking the old woman, nodding with a content smile. “I agree.”

Dean shakes his head abruptly, making a few steps towards Lenore, clearly gesturing what he’s thinking about it, his eyes filling with tears. Castiel doesn’t say a word.

“It’s alright, son.” She smiles. “I have no one except for you and my husband. And without me, Clarence wouldn’t even become a hunter. He’d be… He’d be better without me.”

Dean’s still shaking his head. No. Just no. There must be another way. There always is. He can’t let a woman who has been like a mother to him sacrifice for his stupid, _stupid_ mistakes.

“I don’t have a whole day for you.” The man says impatiently. “Do we have a deal or not?”

 _No!_ Dean screams silently.

“Yes.”


	18. Chapter 18

Dean would love to use the cliché phrase ‘everything happens so fast’, but it doesn’t. He watches Lenore sign the deal. He wants to scream, but he still can’t control his own voice.

“Well done.” The Collector smiles coldly. “Let’s finish that.”

Lenore nods, smiling softly at Dean. Dean’s sure she can see he’s on a verge of tears. She doesn’t say anything and Dean’s almost grateful.

“Just to be clear, Dean Winchester.” The Collector says. “If you ever summon me again, I’ll make sure you’d never been born in any timeline you can remember.”

_Don’t worry_ , Dean grimaces. He might be incorrigible in many ways, but this definitely wasn’t the case. He’s not even sure if he can ever look at a clock again without getting nauseous.

“ _Don’t forget that_.” The Collector finishes viciously.

Before Dean can get suspicious, he feels the whole world slapping his face. He doesn’t even know how to describe that, the pressure doesn’t allow him to breathe but at the same time there’s no physical pain. Darkness surrounds him for a few second, he might even close his eyes, he’s not sure. It takes him a while to realize the motel room disappeared. At least the one Castiel got them. At first he’s sure something went totally wrong again. He doesn’t know where he is. And then, then he recognizes it. The awful honeymoon suite Sam got to hide from Dean.

“Say it.”

Dean’s breath catches in his throat. Just right now the pressure disappears and Dean finally realizes he’s looking at Sam. _His_ Sam. Who’s watching him with his teary eyes, anger curving his lips.

_It means you’re a monster._

Dean can hear his own voice, splitting his heart. But his tongue doesn’t move. He’s just standing there in that freaky romantic hotel room. Just a few seconds before Sammy slammed the door. Just a few seconds before Dean decided to find the Collector.

“Say it, Dean.” Sam barks. “What does it mean?”

Dean can feel his own eyes tearing. And not because of the situation. He couldn’t care less. Sam. _His_ little Sammy. The real one he’s been waiting for. For more than 20 years.

“Damn it.” Dean rasps. “I missed you so much.”

Sam’s eyes widen, stunned with a shock. Well, that probably wasn’t what he expected.

“Wait, Dean, what the –”

He steps back, half expecting a punch, half confused as fuck. However Dean’s hands have no intentions to hurt, pressing Sam’s shoulders, pulling him into a firm hug. Sam’s freezes, while Dean tries to breathe through his tightened throat. He doesn’t remember the last time something felt so right.

“What are you doing, Dean?”

Sam’s probably trying to keep his voice calm, uninterested, but Dean can hear it’s trembling. Sam’s whole body is trembling.

“I love you.” Dean whispers.

God, he hasn’t said it even once since he came back from hell. Always feeling like it’s not right. Something missing in his soul. Fuck this.

“I love you so much.” He whines. “Sam. _Sammy_.”

“Dean, wait.” Sam finally gets over the shock. “What are you doing?”

“You have no idea how long I’ve been looking for you.”

“Dean.” Sam frowns, his voice getting colder. “I’m pretty sure you can live without me for two days. Not even a week ago you’ve been willing to let me _die human_ in Bobby’s panic room.”

Dean breathes out, pressing him tighter. It takes him a while to remember what Sam is talking about and to sort his memories.

_Don’t forget that._

Now he gets it. Because he does remember every single day. He can remember his mom. His dad. Happy family dinners. Sam’s daughter, who was never born. Lenore, who was never born either, sacrificing for his stupid mistakes. If it wasn’t for Bobby being alive and his puppy Sam not ending up buried under the ruins of Bobby’s house, he wouldn’t be able to fight a mental breakdown. He shouldn’t remember. It never happened. However, it’d be too merciful to let him forget. Now it takes him a while to realize what happened in this timeline before he screwed up everything.

“Dean, seriously.” Sam says, but doesn’t put any effort to get out of Dean’s arms. His voice even softens for the first time since Dean got here. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Can we just stay like this for a while?”

Dean sighs, feeling Sam moving. Of course they can’t. Why would they. Why would Sam even want to be close to him. After what happened. He’s pathetic. He’s supposed to be angry. Hurt. He’s supposed to scream at Sam. Slam the door behind his back. That would be like him. And instead of that, he’s clinging to Sam like little kid.

But instead of pulling away, Sam sits down on the bed, dragging Dean with him. Now they’re sitting next to each other, Dean’s still pressing his face into Sam’s neck in almost painful angle.

“I don’t care about demon blood.” Dean breathes out. Sam freezes. “I don’t care about Ruby. Just don’t leave.”

“Dean.” Sam frowns, but the only thing Dean can hear in his voice is worry. “What happened to you?”

“I made another deal.”

Dean doesn’t even think about lying to Sam, not fucking again. It always leads to terrible consequences. If he told Sam how he felt right after coming back from hell, he wouldn’t mess their relationship like this.

“You what?!” Sam pulls away, giving him a horrified look. “How could you after the last time, when –“

“Not this type of deal.” Dean interrupts him, sighing. “More like… fuck, I have no idea how to explain that. You remember how they say when you change one thing in the past, it will completely remodel the present?”

Sam doesn’t look any less horrified. “What exactly did you change?”

“Nothing. I mean, I totally screwed up, but I managed to break the deal.”

Sam is still frowning. “You said I have no idea how long you’ve been looking for me.” Damn smart kid. “How long since I left Bobby’s place?”

Dean avoids his eyes, leaning his head against Sam’s shoulder. He just wants to hug him again.

“More than two decades.”

“What?! Wait – how –“ Sam stutters.

“I’ll tell you everything later, all right?” Dean says, exhausted. “I just need a while. We have the apocalypse to stop. Then we can get some beer and I’ll tell you what an ass Castiel can be in different reality.”

Sam snorts. “Jerk.”

It sounds so familiar Dean almost forgets their crisis situation. He just wants to stay like this.

Then Sam gets serious again. “So you’ll help us kill Lilith?”

Dean stiffens. “No.”

“Dean, you said you don’t care about Ruby and I need her to –“

“No, you don’t understand. We can’t kill Lillith. She’s the last seal.”

“What? No, that doesn’t make sense.”

“Sam, I know you trust Ruby. And I’m not sure if she doesn’t know about that or if she’s messing with you since the beginning, but Lillith mustn’t die.”

Sam’s into defensive mode. “No, Dean, I’m the only one who can do it. I know you don’t believe I can do it, but I can.”

Dean looks at the fragile confidence in Sam’s eyes. He remembers. He remembers himself screaming at him, telling him again and again he can’t do that. Now he just wants to hold him close and reassure him he can do anything he want. God. This whole mess changed him into sloppy idiot.

“I know you could do that, Sam. But just think about it.”

“I _am_ thinking about it. If you were right and Ruby just wanted me to break the last seal, why would she choose me? I mean, there aren’t many people who could actually stop the devil and I dare to say we’re close to be one of them. So why would she want me there?”

And suddenly, it clicks into place.

“Because you’re Lucifer’s vessel, Sammy. That’s why it has to be you.”

“I’m _what_?!”

“Meat suit. His human body.”

“But I – I mean… how do you even know all these things?”

“I’ve already seen that happening.”

Sam is just looking at him, unable to say a word, clearly hesitating. And even though it’s really not a good time, Dean enjoys the moment he can just watch his little brother. Despite confusion and emotional rollercoaster, Sam’s eyes are still full of love which has always been there. Dean remembers now. It’s been there. After the cold attitude he got from the so called other Sam, not even mentioning Lucifer-Sam, he could just sit here and watch his baby brother for hours.

“Dean, I… you can’t just show here and expect me completely change my mind after everything that happened and you and me and Ruby – I thought it was over between us, you were so cold to me and you just suddenly come here and tell me you love me and I… with her… And you don’t want me to kill Lilith after we’ve spend so much time chasing her and… I just don’t know what to do.”

“Can you just trust me?” Dean asks after a while.

Sam swallows. “I don’t know.”

“Sam, listen.” Dean tries to smile. “If you still want to follow Ruby and kill Lilith, I’m going with you.”

“But you just said she’s –“

“I’m not leaving you again. So if you insist, I’m going with you. But I’m begging you, trust me.”

“But what do you want to do with Lilith?” Sam asks slowly.

“She was locked somewhere down there until now. I’m sure we can find a way how to send her back there.”

Sam takes a deep breath, slowly shaking his head. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Great. Let’s get out of here.”


	19. Chapter 19

“ _You_ had a dog?”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “Is _this_ what shocks you the most?”

Sam shakes his head. “I’m still processing.”

Dean parks the car in front of an old motel. They spent almost four hours on the road to get away from Ruby which gave Sam enough time to probe.

“Do you think Castiel remembers?”

Dean shrugs. “I don’t think so. He’d be already here.”

“Yeah, right. Should we call him? He could help us with Lilith.”

Dean frowns, hesitating. “No. I realized the angels are more excited about the apocalypse than we thought. He might help us here, but I’m not sure if we can trust him.”

Sam nods, getting out of the car. “All right. I’ll get the room.”

Dean breathes in, nodding. “Yeah. Sure.”

The time they spent in the car was slightly awkward and drowning in anxiety every time Sam leaves for a minute wouldn’t help. Not to mention how lame it feels. He hopes it will fade after a few days in his own damn timeline.

Sam’s back in seven minutes and no, Dean didn’t count that.

“Did you hear from Bobby?” Sam asks, while heading to their room.

“No.” Dean sighs. “I guess he can’t find anything as well.”

It feels like stupid déjà vu, Bobby going through books, Sam trying the internet and they have nothing. He’s seriously had enough of this old mess. He needs some new mess.

“Dean?” Sam raises the eyebrows, watching his brother grabbing a big package of salt the moment they enter their room.

Dean doesn’t hesitate, pouring thick white lines in front of windows and door. “What?”

“Is this necessary?”

“Why, are you waiting for Ruby to save you?” Dean grins, but Sam can clearly hear insecurity behind the joke.

“It just feels weird to see you so… paranoid.”

 “I’m perfectly fine.” Dean growls, changing salt for a piece of chalk and starting to draw a protective seal. “I’ll be even finer after finding a way how to trap Lilith in the deepest part of hell.”

“Dean. Calm down. I seriously doubt Lilith would come to look for us. She’s been running away from us for months.”

“Yes, because last few months there were some other seals left.”

“Anyway.” Sam comes closer, gently pressing Dean’s shoulder. “It doesn’t matter we don’t know how to trap her yet. If she comes, we can just exorcize her. It always takes them a while to get back.”

Dean sighs, relaxing in his touch. “Okay.”

Sam frowns, still not leaving Dean’s shoulder.

“What?” Dean asks.

“It just feels strange for you to agree with me. I mean, just like… that.”

Dean gives him a bitter smile, pulling away. “Help me to move the beds, I’ll draw the devil’s trap.”

After a few beers and quick shower they ended up in their beds, the day was too long and emotionally exhausting to continue the research. At least for Sam. Dean gave up on sleeping even before falling on one of the _separated_ beds. He’s watching Sam’s calm breathing. He seriously thought being in the same room would be enough for him. And it is, like, yeah, sure. It’s enough. He doesn’t even know why he’s thinking about it. He’s just thinking. About things.

And silence doesn’t help either. Dean was able to… adapt during the day. Not to think about what happened. They have a job. They have purpose. They need to stop Lilith. And the apocalypse. It should be enough not to think about what happened. He can torture himself with things he did after the world is safe and sound again. Yeah, it should be enough. But it’s not. It might be easier with a bottle of jack, but he just can’t. He doesn’t even know if he survives the night. He wants to remember. After decades of his life in both timelines, this is the first time he just wants to remember. He wants to remember Sam. The smile he didn’t see so long. The annoying hair constantly covering his face. Peaceful movement of his chest. He wants to remember.

“Dean.”

“Yeah?” Dean doesn’t even try to sound sleepy.

Sam sighs, exhausted. “Just come here.”

Dean stiffens. “What?”

“You’re thinking too loud. Can’t sleep. Here. Now.” Sam murmurs into his pillow.

Dean’s moving before his brain manages to protest. With a few steps he reaches Sam’s bed, waiting a few seconds, helplessly watching Sam’s huge body. The other man growls, moving closer to the wall, making space for his big brother. Dean hesitates another moment before slowly crawling next to the other man. His sighs, his body inevitably pressing against Sam in such little space.

They’re lying there for a few minutes in silence, shoulders almost painfully pressing against each other in the cramped bed. Dean tries to keep his breathe calm. If there was any chance he would sleep tonight, it’s completely lost now. Sam is so close. He can feel the warmth of his body even through layers of clothes. He’s wondering if Sam feels it too.

“Dean.” Sam whispers.

“Yeah, Sammy.” Dean rasps, cursing his own voice.

“This feels weird, too.”

Dean’s heart sinks. Of course. “Yeah.”

“Move a little.”

Dean sighs, sitting up. But his feet never meet the floor.

“Not so much.” Sam growls, grabbing his shoulders, pulling Dean back to the mattress.

Dean huffs, trying to turns around, but Sam’s arms don’t allow him to move, shoving Dean’s body till the older one ends up on his side, pressing his back against Sam’s chest.

“Better.” Sam smiles half asleep, throwing his arm over Dean’s waist. “This feels much better.”

And Dean’s body finally relaxes, melting in his brother’s arms. Maybe there will be some sleep for Dean Winchester after all.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it! Hellyeah!! I successfully completed my first Supernatural fanfic! Are you as excited as me? The chapter is longer than I originally planned, but I’m sure you don’t mind. Enjoy!

Dean can’t move. That’s the first thing he notices the moment he wakes up. His heart manages a few panic beats, before he realizes the only thing keeping him at one place is a huge arm resting on his stomach. The memories finally start to make sense, while he realizes the warmth surrounding him must be Sam.

“Dean? Are you alright?”

The hot breath tickling his ear makes it little difficult to focus on the worried voice.

“Hey, Sammy.” Dean doesn’t even try to suppress a smile.

“You started to breathe like crazy.” Sam mumbles, unintentionally rubbing Dean’s stomach.

Dean sighs. “Sorry. It just took me a while to realize where I am.”

A soft kiss placed on Dean’s neck sends shivers down his spine. Dean closes his eyes.

“What are you even doing here?” He murmurs contentedly.

Sam tenses. “Where am I supposed to be?”

Dean shrugs. Sam’s always been a morning person. Unlike Dean.

“I don’t know. Out there running or worshiping smoothies or what you hippies do in the morning.”

Sam chuckles. “I guess I was just tired after last few days.”

“Yeah, gentle way to say you just wanted to molest me in sleep.”

Sam laughs, rubbing his face against Dean’s hair. He doesn’t try to deny that.

“I love you, Dean.” Sam says quietly, caressing Dean’s skin with his lips.

It takes Dean a lot of effort not to moan. God.

“You’re killing me.” Dean growls, shifting to find a better position, because all the closeness, all those words, hot breath and _Sam_ go right down to his groin.

Sam laughs, nuzzling Dean’s neck. Dean growls again, because that little shit definitely knows what he’s doing to Dean. However, Sam doesn’t try to move further, he just doesn’t stop cuddling Dean.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sam suddenly asks.

It takes Dean by surprise. “About what?”

“About what happened to you.” Sam clarifies.

Dean frowns. “We’ve been talking about it for hours yesterday.”

“No, Dean, you just described me you messing up and Castiel being a dick.” Sam says gently. “But you’ve been freaking out the whole time. Even asleep. You almost fell of the bed.”

Dean doesn’t say anything. He could try to lie. He could try to deny that. It’d be easy to pretend he doesn’t have a panic attack every time Sam leaves for a few minutes. Which reminds him he’s pretty grateful Sam didn’t bother to exercise today. Waking up alone would probably cause some damage.

However, he doesn’t want to talk about it. There are many things he doesn’t want to talk about. At least not yet. Maybe later. Maybe with Lilith gone and spending a few days with Sam, worrying about nothing, he’d talk. About his anxiety. About Sam marrying Jess. About their daughter. About Lenore. These are the things he just skipped yesterday, not feeling strong enough to talk about them.

“Dean?” Sam asks carefully.

“You’re not wrong.” Dean says slowly. “I just don’t know what to say.”

Sam stills for a few second. Then he breathes out, silently laughing. “Wow.”

“What?”

“I guess I’ll just have to need a while to get used to you not arguing with me. I half expected you to scream at me you’re fine.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better…” Dean grins.

“No, no, it’s great.” Sam says quickly, smiling. “So…?”

Dean sighs. “Let’s give it a few days, okay? I guess I just need to process it myself first.”

“Sure, Dean. Anything you need.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. Sam’s voice sounds… he doesn’t know. Unsatisfied. “Anything else you want to talk about?”  

Sam hesitates. “No.”

“Sam.”

“It’s fine, you’re right, let’s give it a few days.”

Dean frowns, turning his head to see Sam’s face. “Spill it, little brother.”

Sam’s biting his lip. “I’m just… I don’t know what to expect… from this. From you. I mean.” He continues quickly, noticing pain in Dean’s eyes. “I’m not sure what kind of relationship we have right now. We never talked about it before… you died. And I was almost sure you just pitied me and that would be alright, really.” Sam says quickly and despite initial reluctance it seems like he can’t stop now. “I knew you felt guilty for leaving me, so… yeah, I knew you were just doing it for me, but I couldn’t stop myself from taking everything you offered. And after you came back from hell, I expected not to continue that kind of relationship, so you being cold… I could accept that, even though it hurt. It was natural. But you suddenly acting like you want me… it’s confusing. I guess I’m just scared, because I have no idea what you think about it.” Sam finishes quietly, his last words so quiet Dean wouldn’t hear them if he didn’t lie right next to him.

Dean just stares for a few second, thinking about it. “I love you.” He says finally. “I care about you more than anything. I guess it’s far from casual sibling relationship, I don’t know if it’s the way we grew up or if it’s just us… But nothing is more important to me than you, Sammy. So… this relationship can be anything you want. I’ll be happy anyway.”

“You don’t have to do this for me.” Sam says, gesturing above their tangled bodies. “I don’t… I don’t want you to force you. I don’t want you to leave again.”

Dean sighs, rolling over to look at Sam’s guilty face. “Man. Don’t look at me like that.” He says, whining when Sam avoid his eyes. Dean leans closer. “Seriously.” He whispers right next to his ear. “Don’t make me say how many times I woke up with my fingers deep inside my ass after dreaming about you.”

Sam moans, his eyes widening in shock. Dean grins, opening his mouth, probably to mock Sam, but his lips are captured in a deep kiss before he manages to do so. The gentle touch of Sam’s lips gives him shivers. He doesn’t hesitate, burying fingers in Sam’s hair, pressing harder, finding his way into Sam’s mouth without any resistance.

“Dean.” Sam groans. “If you don’t want to go further, we should stop-“

“Shut up.” Dean hisses, straddling Sam’s lap without leaving his lips.

Sam growls, sliding his palms down Dean’s back, resting on his ass. Dean unconsciously presses up against his hands, moaning contentedly after Sam squeezes. Sam takes it as an invitation, because his palms sneak under Dean’s underwear. Dean’s breathing hard, direct contact making him crazy. He almost forgot how good it feels.

“Take this off.” Dean growls, pulling Sam’s t-shirt. He manages to expose Sam’s chest, before he finally admit he has to pull away. Reluctantly, he leaves Sam lips. He quickly takes off his own t-shirt and underwear, noticing Sam doing the same with his shaky hands. He doesn’t try to fight back a smile. Sam’s awkwardly hard. Not that he’s much better.

They’re kissing again before they even get back to the bed. Dean laughs, losing the contact when they fall back on the mattress. It takes them a while to find some comfortable position in the tiny bed. In the end, Sam ends up on his back and Dean on his lap again. He’s hovering over Sam’s body, enjoying the feeling of the firm body under him.

“God, you’re hot.” Dean growls, stroking Sam’s muscles.

Sam laughs, pulling Dean down for another kiss.  Dean’s growling changes into whimpers when he reaches down, his finger sliding between Dean’s cheeks, caressing his entrance. Everything’s happening fast, but it always did. They never had enough time.

“Did you really do this yourself?” Sam asks, gasping under Dean’s lips on his neck.

“Shut your mouth.” Dean advices him, biting Sam’s neck. Sam half laughs half moans, circling sensitive area with tips of his fingers.

“Come on.” Dean whines, swinging his hips, rubbing their hard-ons against each other.

“We –“ Sam gasps. “We don’t have lube.”

“I don’t care.” Dean growls, finding a rhythm in his movements.

“I do.” Sam objects gently. “Later. I promise.”

“Bastard.” Dean moans, grabbing their erections, stroking them in a quick pace.

Sam’s voice joins Dean’s. His fingers don’t leave Dean’s entrance, while the other hand finds its way to his hair. He’s close. He feels like he’s been since the first kiss.

“Cheater.” Dean whines, feeling tip of Sam’s finger pressing inside of his body. Just a little, not enough to hurt him, but enough to make him crazy.

Dean’s hips stutter. He manages to find Sam’s lips again, before he falls over the edge. He can feel Sam tensing under him, following him. His body is still spasming in pleasure when two strong arms hug him in a firm embrace.

“You’re heavy.” Sam smiles.

“You were the one who booked a room with separated beds.” Dean reminds him sleepily.

“Come on, we’re sticky. Don’t fall asleep, old man.”

Dean just growls. And then he growls again, when he can feel Sam moving under him. However, Sam doesn’t try to knock him down, he just grabs a piece of clothes to wipe the mess they made. That’s the last thing Dean remember before falling back to sleep.

Next time he wakes up, he’s alone. He smiles, pressing his face into Sam’s pillow. There’s no trace of anxiety, he’s just… happy. He’s not even sure when was the last time he felt like that. And a bitter voice in his head reminds him, it won’t last long.

He sits up, finally noticing the sound of shower. He checks his phone. Still no message from Bobby. He sighs, facing the reality again. He puts on at least his underwear before starting to pack his their things. They can’t stay long. It’s safer to stay on the road.

“Hey.” Sam smiles, walking out of the bathroom. “Are we leaving?”

“Yeah. I just take a shower, too.” He looks at Sam, frowning. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.” He raises his eyebrows. “Why?”

“You’re not fine.” Dean says, reaching out. His thumb gently strokes bag under Sam’s eye. “You’re going through withdrawal again.”

Sam leans against Dean’s palm. “I’ll be fine. We just need to get rid of Lilith quickly, and then we can deal with it.”

Dean leans over to place a quick kiss on Sam’s lips, disappearing in the bathroom, leaving the smiling brother behind him.

It takes them another hour to finally leave the motel room. Dean opens the Impala trunk, throwing their bags there.

“Where are we heading now?” Sam asks, leaning against the car.

“We should find some big city, it’s easier to hide there.”

Sam nods. “Yeah. Are we going to grab some food? I’m starving.”

“Sure.” Dean turns around, reaching the door.

“Dean!” Sam yells. Which is the only thing he can hear before invisible arm slams him against the car.

“Sam, quickly!” Female voice commands. Sam eyes widen.

“Bitch.” Dean rasps. “Let me go.”

“Shut up.” Ruby hisses. “Come on, Sam. Let’s get out of here.”

Sam finally gets over shock. “Let him go.”

“What?! Did you forget what he –“

“LET HIM GO!”

Dean has no idea what’s Sam doing, but he can hear Ruby shrieking and suddenly he’s free to move again.

“Sam!” Dean calls, his eyes finding Sam standing in front of car, staring at Ruby slammed against the motel wall at least twenty meters from the place they’re standing. He looks scared.

“It’s alright, Sammy. You’re alright. Let’s go.” Dean says, watching Ruby carefully getting up of the ground. “Sammy. Get in the car. Now.”

“I’m sorry gentlemen, but Sammy’s not going anywhere.”

The wave of rage washes over Dean with such intensity he feels nauseous. He grabs his knife.

“Oh Dean.” Lilith frowns. “Children shouldn’t play with sharp objects.”

Dean manages to raise his hand, before he’s slammed against the car again, this time with much more power. _Fucking demons_ , is Dean’s final thought before the invisible hand wraps around his throat.

“Stop it!” Sam yells, probably trying to attack the old way as well, but he doesn’t even get close to her.

“You can do better than this, Sam. Your beloved brother will die if you don’t try properly.”

Dean falls on his knees, pressing his hands against his neck, wheezing, trying to remove the grip around his throat without any success.

“Our plan was working so well, Sam. Such a waste you decided to ruin it just before the grand finale.”

“Let. Him. Go.” Sam growls, raising his hand.

Lilith smiles. “Make me.”

Sam sees red. Which isn’t very accurate phrase, because his eyes turn black. He doesn’t think. The only thing on his mind is his brother desperately gasping for breath.

It’s faster than Sam expected. It’s easier. His powers are exploding. It feels like finally letting go all the pain and strain he’s been holding in since he was six months old.

It takes only seconds for Lillith to disappear in bright white light, her vessel collapsing, lifeless. And then, there silence.

“Dean.” Sam calls weakly.

His heart breaks hundred times before he hears the answer: “Fucking demons.”

Sam laughs, little hysterical, before turning to his big brother. “Are you alright?”

“Awesome.” Dean growls, trying to stand on his unsteady knees. “You?”

“Kind of.” Sam says quietly.

Dean’s head is spinning. He feels like the ground is moving. _Wait_.

“What the hell.”

“I don’t know.” Sam breathes out.

“No, dude, seriously. What the hell.” Dean points toward the motel building. Their surrounding is covered with sigils they didn’t notice before. They wouldn’t notice even now, if the symbol didn’t start to light up. It seems demons had a lot of fun here while they were asleep.

“I don’t know.” Sam growls.

“Did you just kill her?”

Sam doesn’t answer.

“Are you kidding me.”

“I didn’t mean to!” Sam objects.

The ground moves again.

“Go.” Dean says. “Go, go, go!”

They literally jump to the car. Dean starts it even before Sam slams the door, leaving the parking lot with almost suicidal maneuver. He can see the ground opening in the rear view mirror, followed by cone of light. Well. This didn’t work.

_Fucking demons._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha. Hahaha. Here we go. Thank you so much for reading this story. I had a lot of fun writing the end, I just wanted to continue the way the show went. Yeah. That’s the only reason. Of course I didn’t do that because the soulless Sam would be great sequel. Haha.  
> I’ll be really happy if you leave a comment and tell me what you thought about the story. You can also tell me if you want more Wincest fics, even prompts if you want, just anything, because I haven’t decided what to write next. (I should probably write some smut to practice...)   
> Nevermind. Thanks again, I love you guys and see you later!


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